A soft summer morning.
No shimmer in the lake.
No stirring in the leaves.
the ordered weave of the universe
by dewebbing a captive butterfly,
leaving mommy spider and her babies
A speckled yellow butterfly
snared in a web on our sunporch screen,
murderous spider no where to be seen,
so sure was she of the efficacy
of her sticky, deadly trap.
A yellow fluttering caught my eye.
So, with a broken twig,
I flicked and twisted
the well woven webs silk thread,
loosening a cocooned fly,
now dead, of course,
along with the beautiful, butterfly.
first, into the sky,
then sinking into the dew
to wash the residual glue.
I neither know,
nor care to,
if by freeing the butterfly
starving a genealogy of spiders,
I unbalanced the
Will of Divinity,
by cause by cause,
leading to some unpredictable effect
to effect – effect,
the spinning of some unsuspecting
into its crematorium sun.
Enough for me,
the yellow butterfly