What is out in the great wide world?
Where everything has its place
And every place has its thing.
Where animals roam in the circle of life,
The cycle of death and rebirth.
The Butterfly was chose as the symbol
Of this repetition, the caterpillar
The final shape with the magnificent wings.
Wings with which to fly into the sky with,
To take to the air and explore its new home
Where the flowers sustain it,
The dew is its watering trough caught
On a blade of grass, a web is waiting strung between
Two stems of weeds,
A spider lies in wait.
The butterfly unknowing
Flies into the trap, the stick of the web
Catching the unwary,
The spider feeds
The butterfly passes from this
Cycle of life, the everlasting wheel,
The old fading to new, where the food chain starts
The spider feeds on its catch of the day
It in itself a meal for a bird
Flying high in the air, it sees something g litter
Twinkling and shimmering with the early morning dew.
What’s this down there, where the grass grows so tall?
What do I see?
Let’s go look!
Swooping low to the ground, the bird catches the web
Stuck on its feathers, the spider tries to flee
The spider is gone.
Unwary, not watching, the pigeon rises once more
Seen by an eagle, it heads for its nest.
Screeching its call, the eagle gives chase
A long gliding dive brings the talons to bear.
The pigeon goes, like the spider, to feed another
Landing on the ledge the nest is set upon
The eagle deposits the still-warm body for the
Eyelets to eat.
Watching and waiting, the last of the line
Takes every great hunter, all in their time.
The darkness, it rises, to claim another life,
But gives back instead something new,
As one creature falls, another is born
To live and survive.
From the high school archives. This one was sparked off from my English class’ study of stream of consciousness. I sort of managed the process, but I think this makes too much sense to qualify, don’t you?