Butterflies and Frying Pans

To Men

I thought I had made it clear

that

after going from the frying pan

to a pot of boiling water

that I was staying away

from the fire

altogether this time.

Yet you persist in pursuing me

just the same.

I keep getting chased by pots and pans.

When I am confidently standing and

dancing on my own

you are attracted by my strength.

I am a butterfly,

free and flitting about, uncaptured

and you yearn to subdue me.

But when you catch me and learn

there is no controlling this winged spirit,

no way to jar the light I emit

or bind my will to your own —

when my wings grow tattered from disuse

and abuse

you resent me and the anger grows.

I then must find ways to escape.

Your rocks can not hold me down.

Butterflies are not meant to be captured

but to alight momentarily

and fly free.

So let me go

far from your fire and anger

admire me from afar

I am not meant for this world

or yours.

July 2, 2020

Tansy Julie Soaring Eagle Paschold