AGAIN! Dear Mr. Park Ranger,
I am just a little, oversized butterfly man trying to float around and spread love and joy. I really think you’re overdoing it with the steel bars and shackles.
I’m dying to find a passage back to the place I was before. No one got offended. Nobody pitched fits over butterflies doing butterfly things. I pollinated flowers, traveled country meadows, graced humans with my presence, I thought I was a blessing.
I made kids laugh and giggle. I almost enjoyed being caught by researchers and poets. Almost. I lit up the skies. I wreaked havoc for the bumble bees and moths, trying to be me. Most recently I’ve tracked down a Northward swimming salmon spawn who is not afraid to be cute with me. She’s fire. I WAS scared my whole world would fall apart landing on the wrong bunny nose. “WAS” as in the past. I WAS scared. I WAS impaired.
Thank YOU for reminding me I AM a one-of-a-kind, lover of nature, hopscotch type things and comfort-inducing measures. I used to think my poetic voice was like nails on a chalkboard.
I used to default into protecting my heart and vulnerability. I felt uneasy showing affection and emotions that made the cynics scowl. They had too much distaste for the lessons I was working to breathe into their souls. I’ma leave ‘em where they’re at, “M-m-m-honey.”
I’m going to spread my wings and take flight, pick you up and vanish from sight. Just text me a street address to grab you at. Leave the drama and buffoonery at home, “You’re coming with me” is all I’ll have to say..
I’ll pave the highway for chumps like predicted. I’ll give you my hand to hold. I’ll fret no mo’. I’ll chuck these deuces like nooses. I’m leaning back into looseness, unafraid, capable and stable. I’m more than able. Foundations for Colosseums waver, feeling me stepping forward. I’m packing everything that’s needed to survive like an RV.
She’s getting coffee served in bed even after a night of missteps.
To be continued…