Let the little blue butterflies flap where they will, paddle their deft and jiggling way on the still air
Let the white seeds drift, the blonde dots spiral eddy, corkscrew round each other. Let grasses stand golden-green tall and not a petal of all the apple blossom ruffle nor fall.
Let the most dazzling sunlit leaf and its blackest shadow coexist at peace, standing still together, the silence be of Elysium standing in compassion for all time fleeting
(the agonies and tragedies, ignominies: indiscrimiate barrel bombs, drones targeted on rumor, IED so cruelly placed, stone too well aimed, trigger pulled so casually, suicide so callously, knife too well hidden, executions out of hand Buddhist monk hacked to death in his own temple ) -
and now shakes the paper; the tree quakes; a shower of petals falls from the boughs; the pigeon calls, steady as a bellman.
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