Uninvited though I may be
The butterflies were not to be led astray
Dancing upon low-cut flowers
They knew to avoid my footsteps
Their work was of far greater importance
My presence was of no consequence

My heart sheathed no sword
The sun baptized my bare skin
As I continued forward in silence
Solitude granted me clear conscience
For in nature vanity is not the soul of flowers
And wealth is not the seed for its life

It is in my word that I find what is left of me
Though temptation remains like a rusty nail
Holding fast with memories of the initial blow
Foolish and incomplete thoughts mark each step
But a man alone without a judge can see
As stones never to be thrown guide his way