When you look into your daughter’s brown eyes
And see the eyes of your own mother long gone
But still smiling there, and understand that she
Too will hear something of you in her own son’s sighs;
When you pass a bearded hobo in a thunderstorm
Standing on the bridge and in a flash you see that the world
Is filled with such people, and that Christ himself
Also stood like that on the road to Jerusalem;
When you hear a nightingale and marvel as you realize
That all nightingales have sung the same song
From time immemorial;
Or see a butterfly and admire its colors in surprise
As Roman soldiers did before battle for Rome’s fame;
And know that your daughter’s daughter will chase
Almost the same butterfly around some
Future garden of perennials, almost the same;
When time ceases to have meaning for you
Because you realize instinctively that you see and feel
All the same experiences people have always felt :
Then, with the universe you become one and true -
And you live forever.
(Theme = Cosmic Consciousness)
Written By Sydney Peck
Entered in Debbie Guzzi’s Contest DeLIGHT, Good Vibrations
I once was like a catipiller young,naive,and new
Always living from my heart not knowing what
else to do.Easy to take advantage of, that is
just the case, people would walk over me
like I was their dirty used up suitcase.
Now I feel a newness coming, like a light
shining from the sky, colors fill my world
and I know I am blooming into a butterfly.
Purple,Pink, Blue and Green I can feel them
flowing through. Colors of the rainbow raising
me into full bloom. Wise and strong I am becoming
My faith leads me where I need to go giving me
insight and wiseness for only me to know.
I have not done this on my own you see
I have been guided by God and Angels
on this Earth. Wise words the wisdom at
it's best comes from a wise lady who
seems to know me best. Lucky, I am
to have her in my life, she always shoots
it straight and tells me like it is, knowing
her words touch my heart and gives me tons of faith..
I feel like flying through the sky or climbing
a tree way up high. I feel like observing the
world just like a brand new butterfly so as I
Bloom I become Anew something unlike the past
Smart and wise beautiful on the inside and outside
a touch of color here a touch of color there
makes me glow and become a beautiful blooming butterfly...
Written By: Christina A McCullouch
Writing a poem does not always seem
Like a process of creation, but instead
More like a surprising discovery
As if a butterfly was fluttering
Around inside your soul, and then when you
Open your mouth to speak, there it is, look!
Impossible, yet there, iridescent,
Before your own wide, incredulous eyes
And perhaps I am a hypocrite for
Wanting to capture it, to pin it down
To see if I can find myself between
The lines; puzzling out the rythm
Of my own heartbeat inside its wingbeats
Break it open like a fortune cookie
To discover if my love might be true;
Is it not cruel to keep it in a jar
Contained like so much spice or honey? Then
I'll release it to the wind; let it breathe
The Black butterfly waves away her adorations
All she seeks is seclusion, subsuming slave to mortification
The Dear Air is all she can breath, captive of imaginary dreams
The Beacon resonates, but the hope isolates
The Wasteland's silky fingers caressing the virgin's face
So she is now, the covet of the damned
Programmed to every victim's pain
Carrying the weight of every sorrow
Drowning in wrongs she does not know
But paradise is at loss; she must go
Nature sighs after the bite
All my hopes fading
Don't look at me with those sorrowful eyes
How do you know exactly what I'm feeling?
I'm just the ghost flower passing by
And you can hear nature's sigh
When Fancy`s Fairy barefooted runs in the happy green,
The blond bees dance near honey comb in New Jersey…
One Ocean distance to lie in daily gray and self mercy:
This butterfly lost the way of Brasil Carnival just seen
In virtual 3D in the last movie of the “generation mall”
At the European new poles beyond the old courtain.
The goldfish .jpg ,pdf , new prezi in chatrooms mentain
Virtual people looking for exotic food, forgot the call.
Beyond pictures.jpg, new projects.prezi kept in leptop,
Postmodern hermeneutics of love lost the compass
And compassion in this aquarium whose ocean may pass
All in those proclaimed Mayas last days ,they will stop.
Staying on the large yellow water lily, a frog like me
Is fascinated by the ocean of your eyes and their swords.
I Goggle out at the little crumbs of bread and words
As thrown by the good visitors of the small lake free.
“Your bread is dry and dull: You are not good for Soup!”
I wanted to share the dinner with my noble neighbor:
A reddish tortoise stopped near my poetical harbor.
I know. I know I don`t live in Galapagos with your group.
Defiant white and red beets wait on the table` bands;
Horse radishes with invisible pricking javelin, vinegar,
Turkey, salad decorated with sweet basil, potatoes eager.
Family, Trinity, prayers, smiles, candles shaking hands.
She was just 8 years old
With freckles on her face
She was a little tom boy
Playing miles from the U.S base
Her name was parwana
Means butterfly in afghan
She was like a little princess
Born in a cruel land
She was with other children
Just playing under the skies
But they look like terrorist
to a robotic drone as it flies
So they all were killed
With bombs falling from the skies
Then Washington says on TV
It’s a mistake we apologize
We apologize for your lost?
How will that ease the pain?
Of the parents not seeing
Their little love ones again
Her mother cries oh god
Why don’t you kill me instead?
How can I live now?
That my little butterfly is dead
These are our children
Not a horse or a cow
Go look your self in the mirror
Who are the terrorist now?
The British prime minster
Says the terrorist will be beat
From his press conference
From NUMBER 10 Downing Street
The white house says
There will causalities of wars
While all the war mongers
Are safe behind their doors
Her father mourns her death
Till his cant live no more
So he drove a car with bombs
Thru the green zone door
There are good and evil
And we know what evil do
But when the good do the same
Then who is better than who
The lives of the innocent
Are being taken by both sides
And today there was a butterfly
Who will no longer flies?
My Yellow Butterfly;
Pinched in the corner of my eye,
Ah, ‘tis just my yellow butterfly!
A swarm of bees came chomping down on its tail,
And whipping up winds it stirs up new jets to sail!
Staying gallantly afloat it drifts wayward up into a puffed up cloud awaiting it in the air.
A red cardinal bird it did undoubtedly meet perched high on top a big pesky grizzly bear.
It just flies fancy free through the needles and straws of prickly Pine Trees.
And it starts circling around until it is across the rolling roaring High Seas!
My yellow butterfly just zip zaps itself right on by.
It is either flying too low or it is flying up on high!
On top of the clouds, I did get to watch its magnificent tail set sail.
Triumphantly, it stays afloat between a big shark and mighty whale!
A horde of yellow butterflies suddenly dumped down on me with voices that blare.
The journal of flying from here to there will get everyone everywhere except in err!
Yellow butterflies were coming from everywhere just so joyous for my eyes to see,
And I was caught up on a cloud when my yellow butterfly ushered in its array of me.
My Yellow Butterfly!
Those green-black cobra eyes,
Are black-yellow butterfly wings
That hypnotizes you with a deadly sting
Return to thy hand weaved basket, from the land of Nod
Then, we shall rest upon your silent butterfly wings