butterfly

Grandmother Gaia, creatress of all manifest is married to Spirit. Engorged with the fullness of Anima, she birthes breath. Each thought a brain flutter soft wings now open, now resting on the leaves of trees. A quick flash of color and then dullness. The butterfly has disappeared into the tree, and my hand resting upon the bark has also dissolved, I can hear the whisper of what lies within us. My heartbeat a thousand shudders of animal flesh awakening. Flash of wings crashes the sky open. Cracked open and sap drips lustily from the heartwood, cries openly to the crashing sky, breathes in the raw nectar of exposure. I piece together what fell apart. My eyes open upwards and catch sky falling, birds departing noisily, butterfly wings lilting on the breeze, open colors flashing boisterously among the shuddering branches dissapear. Full breath in. Grandmother Gaia transforms time.