Palu's Song
Palu, a joyful purple butterfly, made her home in a majestic tree beside a serene lake. This tree, a grand old tree, sprawled wide over the lake shore, adorned with an array of bright purple flowers. Each morning, as the first rays of sun kissed the world, Palu would awaken and burst into a cheerful song, flitting gracefully from one blooming flower to another.
Hey ho, hey hee,
Fly with me. Fly free.
Over the lake, where the waters gleam,
In a world as sweet as a dream.
Hey ho, hey hee,
Under the Jacaranda tree,
Where flowers bloom and laughter rings,
And every heart joyfully sings.
Hey ho, hey hee,
Stories told in glee,
Of sunshine bright and skies so blue,
In our haven where tales are true.
Hey ho, hey hee,
In the dance of the carefree,
Where days are long and nights are mild.
As Palu gently perched on each flower, she asked if it had a new story to share. These flowers would recount tales filled with wonder and whimsy. Palu, a faithful storyteller, carried these stories from one blossom to another, ensuring that even those on the furthest reaches of the tree heard them.
Every morning, with a gentle flutter of her purple wings, Palu would warmly greet the sun, an old friend rising anew. Together, they would welcome the day - Palu with her song and story gathering, and the sun with its nurturing light. As evening approached, the sun, like a watchful guardian, would cast a final golden glance over the world before retiring. Throughout the night Palu rested and it was in this harmonious balance between day and night that Palu and the sun shared the dance of life and light.
One peculiar morning, Palu woke up to an unusual stillness in the air. The sun, her ever-present beacon of light and warmth, seemed dimmer and less joyful than ever before. Concerned, Palu fluttered upwards and called out, "Sun, why are you sad?" The sun, with a weary glow, replied, "Dear Palu, I am not sad, just very tired. The time has come for me to rest a while, but I promise, I will return".
As the sun's words faded, a large figure in a splendid coat of orange, brown, yellow, and red hues, appeared, bounding joyously across the lake toward the tree. This figure, with a merry chuckle, leaned close to the tree, whispering, whispering, whispering secrets that made the air shimmer. Palu watched in dismay as the once vibrant flowers began to curl inward, their colors dimming. No longer did they share joyous tales; instead, they drooped, wilting under the figure's spell. In a frenzy, Palu fluttered about, her song turning to a plea, but her efforts were in vain as the flowers wilted and fell.
Why this change, what decree?
Once a dance of joy and light,
Now a shadow, now a plight.
Hey ho, hey hee,
My plea echoes, can't you see?
From whispering winds to silent cries,
As my garden, my joy, withers and dies.
Hey ho, hey hee,
Anger stirs deep within me,
Against the tide of fading dreams,
I fight, I yearn, I scream.
Hey ho, hey hee,
This isn't how it's meant to be!
Palu darted towards the figure in the colorful coat, but it only laughed, a sound like rustling leaves, and danced away. She pursued with all her might, yet no matter how swiftly she flew, the figure remained just out of reach. Exhausted, hungry, and heartbroken, Palu came to rest on a lone log, her tears flowing freely for her lost flowers and the slumbering sun. As she wept, her tears crystallized, forming sparkling droplets that captured the faint light.
Her sorrow was soon interrupted by a flurry of activity. Looking up, she saw the figure in the vibrant coat dancing with another being, cloaked in pure white. This new figure's presence was like a cold gust, chilling Palu's spirit. In a burst of fury, she flew towards them, crying out, "Why are you so cruel?" The figure in white met her gaze, then released a laugh so powerful it sent Palu tumbling through the air. Buffeted by this icy mirth, she found herself in a barren land, by an ancient tree standing sentinel over a field of crystal. Shivering and spent, Palu nestled against the tree's trunk and surrendered to a weary sleep.
One night, as the world slept under a blanket of stars, a small caterpillar inched its way to Palu. Gently nudging her awake, it asked with a curious tilt of its fuzzy head, "Why so sad?" Palu looked into its innocent eyes and shared her sorrow, "The figures, one in many colors and another in white, took away my beautiful flowers and their stories." The caterpillar, intrigued, replied, "I love good stories. Would you tell me some?"
Happier than she had felt in a long time, Palu's spirits lifted as she began to recount the tales she remembered. The caterpillar, hanging on every word, curled itself into a cozy nest, lulled into a peaceful slumber by her storytelling. As Palu continued, the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of purple, red, and orange. The world around her slowly stirred to life; birds began to sing, the crystal field transformed back into a lively lake, and the once barren tree burst in a display of vibrant purple flowers, eager to share their stories once again.
Palu, screaming with excitement, flew up into the air, her song ringing loudly among the fresh blossoms. The sun, beaming down kindly, asked her, "How did you fare while I was resting?" Palu, bubbling with energy, told the sun all about the figures of many colors and pure white, "Why were they so mean to me and my flowers?" she asked. The sun laughed in a way that made the whole sky seem to smile and said, "That's just how they are, as it is for me to shine brightly for you. They don't really understand what they do."
With her song now deepened by experience, Palu flit from flower to flower, not just gathering stories, but enriching them with the wisdom she had gained. Each story she touched blossomed anew, infused with insights from her journey. As she navigated the tree's boughs, she came upon another butterfly, its wings a dazzling display of color, dancing among the blooms. "Who are you?" Palu asked, her voice resonating with the depth of her growth. The butterfly, moving in harmony with Palu's song, replied, "I'm not sure yet. I was resting under this tree, and then your song woke me"
Hey ho, hey hee,
In life's dance, we fly free.
Through autumn's hue, winter's frost,
In change, no tale is ever lost.
Hey ho, hey hee,
'Neath the Jacaranda tree,
Seasons spin, stories flow,
In each end, a new one grows.
Hey ho, hey hee,
With laughter, tears, and glee,
Embracing all, in sun's bright glance,
Together we grow, together we dance.
Her song, which had begun as a pure expression of joy, had transformed into one of experience and acceptance, tales of laughter and learning, challenges and triumphs. Together, Palu, her new friend and the flowers, shared stories that spiraled upwards, intertwining in a vibrant celebration of life's ever-changing story.
