Lessons from the dancing of the butterflies

When?
When does it happen?
When does a mind that knows it is being forced everyday to live at the edge of reason, finally fall into aquiesence?

When will this rage,
Not anger or violent will,
But pure, primal, gutteral, heart centered rage,
Finally lose its flame and go gently into the dying of the light?

Oh innocent rage,
I sense you there under all my musings,
Giving strength to my conflicting acts of subservient silence.

A rage so molten in it's structure
Yet as gentle as the dance of these morning butterflies.

Caged, framed, profiled and misperceived.

Fragmented views of our natural place,
Leave space,
For the ideas and will of those who would see us gone from this world; Without grace.

Removed like earth from the farmers boot.

"Useless eaters be gone" they say.
Only the essential may stay.
For a while, anyway.
For a one of a kind game they like to play...
But can only be played in 'their' way.

A world game that's long on new and short on order.
What kind of life will be left for my daughters?
Like preverbial lambs to the slaughter,
Where fictions run wild like unfettered water,
With limits forced into mind borders,
Prisoners to the whims of life's horders,
As they bleat out their disgusting orders,
For you to spend your life in the corner,
Never to receive a reward for
An honest chance at existing free
And in accordance with your own will and judgements as a human being filled and forged in love and reason.

Have you ever watched a butterfly trapped inside a room?

As it flaps it's wings and darts from wall to wall
Looking for that illusive something that will quench it's flustered mind

That is the sound and song of a free mind in a covid world!

...and what makes this butterfly eventually settle?
What choices are made?
Even if that settling is only for a while.
Is it just exhaustion, physical tiring?
A moment to breathe and catch your thoughts
All the while planning your next attempt to find your freedom in the wind.

Or are you at peace?
Happy amidst your chaotic display,
Content with moving through uncertainty,
As you bounce from wall to door and ceiling to floor.

What lessons can be learned from the caged dancing of nature's wings?

I'm not angry or scared anymore,
More disappointed, I suppose.
At the pride filled whimpering of humanity
As it allows itself to be frog marched on to the field of its own destruction.

What kind of world is being agreed upon that will withold the feeding of a child for the mandated actions of control?

A world that hides behind masks of unquestioning confusion,
And spits venom from it's eyes,
Toward those who question why

Is it shame that hides you or guilt that makes you blame?
To disregard our unity and forget were all the same.

And once again I see the butterflies and wonder why they're not called flutterby's,
It seems a name way more befitting of their style

Then I remember the ways mankind treats this world and how much we've been out of sync for quite a while.

Of course we'd misinterprete and misname the things we see,
We've forgotten how to honestly communicate...

We've forgotten how to be.

Buddha City - July 2021 ❣️