This spring thousands and thousands of painted lady butterflies migrated through Calgary...
Day and Night
1
when butterflies migrate
do they doubt?
crossing continents of the unknown
frail wings are made for such a journey
trembling in the driving rain
primal desperation rises as
countless comrades fall
what is the heart of my quest?
2
the moon is the lighthouse of the moth
it dances a tango with the sun
the moth circles in a straight line
as the moon roams across the sky
false beacons dazzle all around
drawing the moth into dazed spirals
3
Lead me onwards;
fix my eyes on the moving signal
across the masses of doubt
and the lure of an earthbound guide; shiny
death
so I can cross into angelsong
and rest.
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2 comments:
i love this...
I still love this
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