Butterfly Metamorph

What does a butterfly say when it hears the call of the cacoon?

I crawled for so long
feeling earth and bark beneath
my body
Gravity kept me slow
then one day I heard your call
stepped through your door
and died..
Ecstatic darkness
points of light
and then a new awakening
Emerged, I could fly
and such beauty have I
the wind against my wings
bringing me closer to the light
Today I heard your call again
and I prepare to enter
What will become of me now?

The Story

From inspired nothing…the one (the all)
From the one needing to express itself…the many
from the evolving many…the unified one
Magnificent ripples in a pond of nothingness
All that matters is the story
for nothing else has matter
but the stories we tell ourselves
the names change, the facts the figures
but the story lives on.
The King had a daughter
no the Emperor a son
and he or she was unhappy
for they felt their lives were empty
and they needed an object on which to express their love
Then a bird flew into his window
then a frog called to her
An enchanted kiss
An evil fought
and love won in the end
Do the names or places matter?
Not to the story
the story endures
Archetypes burned into our consciousness
in the language of dreams
so that we create ourselves
in their image.

The devil is in the details…
and that is good
because the story continues
and tho the outline remains the same
the lessons come from the differences
what each generation or people need to learn
and therein the teacher can be found
Saturn -The Plamet of lessons
Satan who tempts us away from the
path of the story
Crossroads can be tricky
but who can eschew (Eshu) them?

I meander from a straight path
but poetic truths are different
from ones of logic
and the Fool can go anywhere
It is ever a fool’s prerogative
to laugh at kings
to remind them
that they too are but a story
and will one day end
tho the story lives on….

Some lessons need to be learned more than once…
This one will continue

Surfing the Schrodinger Wave

I am but am not

I hang five on the wave that never collapses

The uncertainty doesn’t bother me

The paradox can be paradoctored

It is I that decide

Ignoring the ten doors that lead to 10 kingdoms

I seek beyond the veil

facing the nightmares that make me i

until i find the not i through which the world changes.

Only if it matters not where i go or whether i go

can i continue

for if it matters then the matter contains me

and it is my will not to be contained.