what do you know about
the flapping of the butterfly –
the light flap, soft flap, timid flap,
the one that makes no noise, disturbs no sleeper,
that is so utterly erasable, and much more insignificant
than sand paintings in eastern gardens …
and what is there to know about this miniscule event,
what insight, wisdom to be gained from bodies of such
weightlessness?
a hurricane ran over our world last year
and ate up houses, trees, streets, bicycles,
devoured people with its water-mouth
and spat out corpses, broken towers, wrecks,
and twisted sailboats.
what do you know about
the flapping of the butterfly –
the light flap, soft flap, timid flap,
the one that set in motion nothing but a tiny, tiny, tiny breeze –
a tiny breeze that joined another tiny breeze –
and then another one …
isabella mori
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