Mariposa Speaks One More Time

This is a collection of my striving...

...a constant reminder to myself of both what it means to strive as well as a memorial to each
pass through the fire.

...could also be an archive of my many deaths and rebirths, each one coming a little closer to
being more that perfect FLY, a jubilant creature who is both of made of fragile wings and
unmade in the winds, eternally becoming.

...butterflies, they seemed to be forever doomed to char and diminish, yet ever blessed to know rebirth and the chance to once more strive

...delighting in the truth that, regardless the struggle of the caterpilar, the cocooning, it is never a final torment, only a gateway, a door, a transitory passage on the wings of hope itself.

...this space, through time, will hold both confession and release, it will be a place where wounds inflicted, both self-induced and underserved, are turned to remembrance and lessons for me.

...in so doing, perhaps, regardless of the many mistakes documented, all things will lend evidence of the hope that turns them into lessons and learning, each cycle refining, tempering, and lending strength to rise once more from the caterpilar and face the open challenge given by life… daring to try once more, and find the fearlessness that makes all things of life and its living beautiful.

...hiding my face from the world to permit that much more openness to it, I place memories of various winds upon this common ground as evidence of my tempering sent into the world, even to you, lessons in which this one was charred, crippled, killed, not learning in time to avoid the need for yet another cycle of storm.

...admission of my many foolishnesses, yes, but also testament to the nature of that which is the butterfly in me, that, despite all, the cycle continues, I remain, and even in the knowledge of storm to come, am steadfast and will keep trying my wings.

...it seems at once an arrogance and a strange humility, that regardless of the view, my intent in it remains as it is - to catalogue my life, to share it with whomever cares to view it, and in the process, impart what pitiful, humble insights or lessons it may deliver… both to myself in the archiving and remembrance, as well as to you in the readings.

...beyond this, only to rejoice when joy and gladness flows in me, to weep when soul demands, to ache as time and circumstance require, and to, in all things, attest to all as well as bone, blood, and mind can manage.

Mariposa Speaks...