The Naked Eye
In a book by Martha BaillieLike all living creatures, I had a mother and father; but I never knew them. I know that they met each other last summer; for several days they flew side by side and together sipped from the same flowers. Then for several hours they united. During this union my father pressed the tip of his belly against my mother; it is in this way he was able to slip tiny grains into her body, grains so small no person could see them with his naked eye.—Animals and Their Families: The Butterfly
I wish i would have written it....
on that day
when i wrote that slightly perverted poem
Martha describes it more with the softness i felt when laying beside them, witnessing such wonder, to me she also captures the slight feeling of being lost... which i felt on that day, when i was aching for simple loving.
1 comment:
Saw your photos and it made me think of mourning cloaks I have seen and the missed opportunities of not looking for them.
Maybe there is a good question? Why do we sometimes not go into the woods and mountains when we know the things which make us who we are are out there waiting for us? Why to we deny the sun and those little niches that always have wonderful living things we adore so much.
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