the orb of light is my destiny.

in my dark valley
escape is a blind flight
on the moonless night

when heavy lies the fog on wing
neath misty sky crickets sing
beckons me the halogen

come embrace forget pain.

be afraid not of the one recourse
come what may fly to the source
soak in the fire of the drizzled night
life is precious with death on sight.

caught in wire stuck on fence
dying this night makes only sense
i fall like rains and at last free

the orb of light is my destiny.

It gets across the point if the earth really is alive,
If you were interviewing a butterfly,
Standing on the branch of an oak tree.
Now, a butterfly lives only for a few days
But an oak tree can live for over a thousand years.
If you were to ask the butterfly:
Do you precede the object of which your standing is being alive?
The butterfly would say: of course not. I've been here all my life
It is all five days, and the tree hasn't done a thing
Well, it's the same problem with the human being
If you would ask a person
Perhaps one that's lived for a hundred years
They precede the earth, which is really 5 billion years old, is being alive
They would say: of course not. I've been here my whole life, and it hasn't done a thing.
The earth really is alive.

With dusty wings
and awkward flight
Your tiny buffalo body
bounces on the
delicate glass surface.
An exaggerated shadow
announces your plight.
Is it the beauty of
the butterfly
that spurs you.
Why so frustrated;
so persistent?
Do you know of emotion?
Maybe you do,
and it is your own
dark turmoil
that draws you to the
glass skirted flame.

Some
Bleed blue
a bitter cold
river that drifts along ever slowly
Ever peaceful
Filled with thousands of perfect downy pebbles
each the exact shape and size
as the last
it trickles down all of the hills and mountains
to lower ground

Iced and frigid
It comes from the heart
to the vein and artery
to the lung
around the stomach and intestines
up the spine
down the spine

to the wound.

This evening, with the wind
of my curtains breathing, I listen for night birds
watch the room grow pale
the finality of day, a nightly ritual
how skies reconstruct themselves over again
twinkle and murmur of stars
cynosure of all planets, even unseen
clouds like amnesia, hide things
our earthbound slipping away
of days lost irretrievable

Our scientists say that before The Big Bang
There was Nothing
And therefore
No God.

Through red-shifted space they “see”
Back to The Beginning.
Exploding Singularity.
A photon winks into existence
And BOOM.

Yes they are conceited enough to think
That all we see is all there is to know.
Like people pre-Pythagoras
Who thought the Earth was flat
They Lord it
With Confidence.

Yet Eternal Infinity
Beckons us on.

A light year is 5,878,499,810,000 miles.
An estimated 81,000 years Ion-Drive flight to the nearest star.
About 100 thousand million galaxies in the universe:
70 thousand million million million stars.
But we know it all.

Some say our universe is a bubble
Growing within another
Like a baby in a womb.

Some say it will grow forever,
Slowly petering out
‘Til all is cold.
Others that it will stop, shrink
Implode
Then be reborn
With another Big Bang.

Who knows what will happen?
Not me.

Paul Butters

Take off the night’s cover
Welcome the first rays
Feel the harmonious waves
Soft melody of the Earth
Pleasant notes hits the ears
Wait for the drapes to go up
View the world in new light
It’s time for dreams to take off
Meditate on the possibilities

As sunlight fades earth’s rich brocade,
We follow the flight of the birds,
Past the emerald forest now in shade,
Our silence speaks a thousand words.
We climb up a ladder of blue cloud.
To sit on a moon edged roof,
Far away from the madding crowd.
Hearts filled with vibrating truth.
Our shadows dance in melodies of mist
We sit drifting through the circling stars.
Our souls tumbling, flying, when we kiss,
For this night only, heaven is ours.
A moment that ought to last forever,
Has come and gone before we know,
Our hearts which opened like flowers in spring,
Will become frosted, iced, with snow.
And the barks and crows and life jars
As the saffron sunrise fills the sky,
We linger with pearl drops in our eyes,
Then lift our hands to wave goodbye.

Of Ancient Mushrooms you'll find
Growing in the wilds of every eon
And if you Find yourself lost in them
Amongst Faeries, Lizards, Elves, and Snakes
And the Forest Glows a Phosphorescent Green
Catch your Breath amid the Giggles let free
And hear the Elven Harps among the trees
Under giddy Spells of Mirth and Laughter
Soft thrum of Faerie Wings and Elven Chatter
The rising Sun Disolves the Mists of Mirth
And all the Magic drifts off from the Earth