Wednesday, 13 July 2011

Love sprints with the butterfly, it flies free and easy in the wind.

Hail the wind and the butterfly! That which is will be and so become even more than that, even change into something else in a chrysalis of light. This is the time of the butterfly that flits in and out of the flowers on a tryst with fate.

That which will happen will happen, that which has been is done. Hail to the butterfly that flits about.

All see where it alights: on a flower. It works, it functions, it follows its purpose, and in doing so is love made visible. Look at its flight, lovely creature that it is: it flys free as a humming bird in its chosen direction. It can never falter while it flies so.

Do not begrudge the freely-done flight of the butterfly in the limpid skies above.

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Welcome! Here, be Platonic, be precise, be concise, do not lie, do not mock, do not giggle, do not do the fandango in your mind as you comment. In effect, be one with the butterfly as you think and converse here.