Butterflies and Moths

Iridescent butterfly flutters around the door to my soul,

Begging entrance to my secrets,

But I only let the old moths come in and feast,

Because I am irreparable.

The old moths come, with their wings of shadow and dark eyes,

They kill the butterfly.

I am sad for the disappearance of ethereal shimmer,

But I don’t know why.

I am full of alkalic swamp water sloshing against the mossy ground

Of my gated heart,

And the shadow moths come and feast on my secrets,

But my soul longs

For the shimmer of golden butterflies,

And the moths grow angry.

They rise in raging droves and sit on the slimy gates,

Waiting for the golden glow.

The iridescents flutter up to the slimy green gates

And the battle is on.

In the aftermath of crushed bodies and shadowed wings,

I find the swampy pool is blue and life is green around the gates.

The shadowed moths no longer feast upon my secrets,

They are a fading memory.

Shimmering butterflies love my soul and sweet time

Flows like honey.

The gates are clean and glowing and green with life,

They are open.

The secrets have disappeared with the moths,

I am reparable.

Lp 2020

The days are muggy and hot and make me feel like a beached whale.

But today it was windy and it rained and had a real moody time of it outside and now it is chilly and windy and the whale has returned to the ocean and has evolved into a slim fish again. The evolution is backwards and the sentence is run-on, but it doesn’t matter.

And the kombucha is always good. Thank you Shar.

May the middle of your week make you happy.