The Man who talked to Butterflies

  

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(A lone voice whispers. Lost in deep reflection. Musing in the throes of spiritual introspection - to a butterfly)

And so it rained outside and even inside

For what seemed like forty days and forty nights

As I wandered lost in that yellow lonely deserted

Judean Desert

Alone

When the hard times and the whispering low vibrational voices came

On the Mount of Temptation

Fluctuating between mild and wild feelings

Intermixing with the sound of falling rain in the distance

Then peaking to unknown or unexplored heights of demoralising anxiety with no limits or resistance

To finally merge together to twirl their silver big band batons high

As they danced in absolute unrestricted low vibrational ecstasy

Underneath that grinning red sky

Unfurling

All the hidden memories and opaque trophies of troubles and strife

Which they summoned from so many others to be returned

Petitions for a means to atone

Twisted and contorted thoughts

Which opened my mind like I was being stabbed like a market robbery victim

With the Devil's sharp knife

But as I knelt and prayed

With my eyes shut thinking about the living masses

Weighed up all the pros and cons

Imaging all the endless happiness

Still to be found within all seemingly sorrowful lives

A vision of a white cross suddenly appeared

And some soft eloquently spoken words

Echoed throughout my ears

Do not be scared of this life and all its many fears

Do not be scared to shed some sad tears for yourself or others

The happy days are soon to come

Keep your faith in this voice

Your version of the one true One

For we are many

And we appear everywhere

As in this form

He allows you to still run

For when your time is recalled by your final act in this endless chapter of life

On the cross

So many will be saved and rescued from the mighty fall to Abaddon

The Dark Lands of the Fallen Ones

And so I'll walk on smiling

For I know now

Beyond all doubt

My soon-to-be death in Golgotha would be my ultimate gift to the world

Today and forevermore

So who am I

To dare to be late

When the world I see before me

Needs to be irrevocably changed

From Bethlehem to all the many other bent city gates

For they are all filled with green rivers of jealously

And gushing winds carrying sharp spears of fear and with so many foolishly condemning others

By false accusations

Spreading hate

All I can do is play my role to perfection

If it only saves just one poor soul

What a better way to serve my version of my Holy Father

For I now know to follow which path is my destination Home

The one I have no control over

For all life

Even mine

Reads like a precious whole poem

Just that mine will begin and end in a timeless loop

When I arrive

To stand bravely upright

Before the baying crowds

In Old Golgotha

Thanks for listening

My friend who I'll call

Mary

In the form of a beautiful white butterfly

My mother

Who I can only pray

I'll see once more

Before the day I die

(C)

Copyright John Duffy