In the middle of a field
a Monarch butterfly sits on a clover
opening and closing its wings,
swaying the clover which hits the next one,
which hits the next one,
and so on and so on ,
till the whole field is in motion.
The center is everywhere,
they say.
Life pulses out from that.
I lift my finger and displace the air.
Are the ripples felt throughout the universe?
One verse
and if I change a syllable
the whole poem changes.
(excerpted from, Re-entering the Womb of the Goddess, an e book ,by Kamala Moore )
copyright by Kamala Moore 2007
