The Winds Have Changed …

If I were human (great lumbering brutes that they are) …

If I had human language, calculated time like a human –

Took it for granted like a human –

Then this would be

2015,

Mid-September

End of summer,

Autumn creeping in …

If I were human,

Thought as one of them,

Named things in the

Ridiculous, disinterested way they do

(Then having catalogued it, so casual dismissive

Let it go) …

I would be

Butterfly.

Image result for butterfly u.k.

I have known vast expanses of colour,

Winged, gloriously anonymously over them,

Drinking in perfumes and nectar

Gorged myself

On treasures offered

Thinking not of the past day

Never mind past lives

(Though the sugars I digest

Drive me forward, impetuous, impatient

And make fairy grasshoppers of my memories

I believe I may be dimly aware

That I existed before:

But that is so, so unimportant

And I have neither need

Nor call to follow those distraction trails)

The winds have changed,

That much I can chart,

The colours I need are fewer and further between

And splendid sun-energy is horribly drained

By the routes I make ‘tween stops,

Powder bright and dull scales topple from my

Banner wings, nights are darker, bite with challenge.

But I will fly with purpose while I can;

Flutter in giddy-clown circles when that option is gone and

Stagger on too fragile limbs to

An eventual ending of sorts.

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3 responses to this post.

  1. Reblogged this on beeseeker.

    Reply

  2. Enjoyed it. Too many named things – the bane of language – a treatise unto itself. —Chagall

    Reply

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