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On A Butterfly's Wings - A Fable Of Sorts
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On A Butterfly's Wings - A Fable Of Sorts |
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Mysteria 
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada 
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This was written last year in August for a book I am doing for my Granddaughter, then submitted to a content, where the theme was to do a fable using winged insects - this won second place. (we lost out to a story about a beetle  hah!) I hope you enjoy it.On A Butterfly's Wings - A Fable Of Sorts Over the Pacific Ocean a tiny, insignificant butterfly flapped its lonely wings. Indigo, saffron, flaming red and orange, and all the colors of chaos danced across her delicate wings. The slight powers of this creature's wings caused a tiny breeze to blow one single leaf onto the wind. An oak leaf that must have blown halfway around the world to be in the right place at the right time. It would have settled into the deep blue of the ocean, but for that minute breeze from her wings, which kept that leaf aloft a little bit longer, as a draft of air caught it then and gave it life. It skimmed over the breaking waves, until it landed on a tropical shore in the Pacific. This island was a hidden paradise where the animals were still free to roam in its jungles as they always had. A small tribe of Polynesians hunted the forest, taking only what they needed. Never did they take more then the island could give. In the heart of this island was a waterfall, and at the base of the waterfall a large flat rock. On it sat a beautiful nymph, the spirit of the island. She leaned back and brushed her delicate hands, the pale green of new leaves. The animals of the island had audience with her, for she was their queen. Sometimes the tribesmen would visit her, bringing gifts of fruit and pleasures, which the animals could not provide. She was lonely in this place, though she could always talk to her sisters, the other islands. They never had anything to say. Sometimes she would hear stories of black poison spreading over the waters. Suffocating the islands and all its inhabitants. Her sisters said that this poison had a name. They called it "pollution". Where had this dark plague come from? Nobody knew, some of the youngest islands said that men had made this dark sickness of oil. But the nymph of this island didn't agree, everybody knew that humans were only simple hunter's, living in peace with nature. Her thoughts were interrupted by the small voice of an ant at her feet. Beseeching her for help. "My lady, I am hungry. All the other ants have eaten all the food that I can reach. If I do not find some food, some leaves soon I shall surely die! What am I to do?" "An hour ago, I felt the drop of a new leaf on the south shore. It is still there. If you go now to fetch it you will have enough food for weeks. Surely that will be enough." "Thank you. I thank you with all my heart." The ant replied and scurried away into the underbrush, which he claimed to be inedible. The nymph knew better, of course. This ant was simply a picky eater; not any kind of leaf would do for him. The ant found the oak leaf lying on the crystal sands. Instead of taking the nymphs advice, to save it for weeks so that he wouldn't be hungry for a long time, the ant ate it all at once. His stomach bulged, almost cracking open his carapace. The ant grew big and fat eating the luscious oak leaf. The sated ant felt tired, as one often does after eating a big meal. He pulled himself across the sand into the shade of a palm tree to rest. His antenna drooped, and he placed one set of legs over his stomach, holding it. The ant was feeling a little too full now. He wished that he had waited, and not eaten all the leaf at once. Here our story could have ended, if the ant had not been the only hungry denizen of the island. A gull was circling around the island, its stomach cramped with hunger. As it circled for the last time, almost dying of starvation, the gull saw the fat ant. It swooped down and ate the ant in a single gulp. The ant had been so weighed down and tired that it couldn't even try to get away when the sea gull attacked. Now the gull was the one with the full stomach, for the ant had grown very big from the oak leaf. Now, the ant who had just been eaten had been a very good friend of the island nymph. As she sat on her flat rock by the sparkling waterfall, she winced as the ant was eaten. When she realized what had happened she grew furious. She called the gentle winds that blew through her trees and made them take the gull and cast him far, far away. She never wanted to see the bird that had killed her friend again. With all of her earthly powers, she could have easily killed the gull. But that would have been senseless; it would have been like cutting off your own toe. Every creature that had ever dwelled on her island would always be a part of her. The gentle island winds grew faster and stronger, their zephyr arms carrying the gull across the ocean, and over a continent, all the way to Canada. The gull tumbled through the air, carried in the strong arms of the island zephyrs. It spun and was whipped around within the wind. At last the island zephyrs released their prisoner and let him fly free again. The gull faltered in the air for an instant, before regaining it's balance. It was silhouetted against the sky for a brief instant, catching the eye of an aspiring artist. The image of the bird wheeling around in the limitless sky burned itself into his retinas. The artist stuffed his sketchbook back into his bag and rushed back home to his studio to paint. He was so inspired by the heavenly sight of flight that he failed to notice the car rushing towards him. The local minister was driving this car. The old, gentleman was deep in silent prayer. He was thinking about the nature of god and incidentally life and death. He was so deep in thought that he didn't see the young man running across the road in front of him. Crash! The two collided with a resounding crash that resounded halfway to the stars. The windshield shattered (it had been a very small car). Luckily the minister was unhurt, perhaps an angel was watching over him. The young artist lay on the road, unconscious and barely breathing. The minister rushed out of the car and kneeled by the young man's side. He checked the pulse and listened to the artists breathing. On the very edge between life and death. This would be close. He ran to the nearest phone and called for an ambulance. The young man was rushed away in a fog of flashing lights and sirens. After the young man had been taking away, the remaining doctors crowded around him, caging him in. "Are you ok?" "What happened?" "Did you hit your head?" "Did you know the man?" "What is your name.”? He pushed his way out of the circle of people that was slowly closing in on him. He turned and faced them, his clerical robes flapping around him. "Questions, questions. Too many questions. Don't ask me any more questions or one of you might have andaccident’. Now, if you will excuse me gentlemen, I have an appointment with God." "To do what?" one of the doctors decked out in a white lab coat, before he realized that the priest might have been serious when he had threatened them. "An appointment to pray." With that the priest turned and walked through the rain that didn't so much fall from the clouds as drip, back to his church. His church was a comfortable stone building. Its walls thick and made of soft gray stone, stained panes gray from the rain. Its roof was dark green slate, its steeple a short sad affair that was barely higher then the chimney. None of this bothered the minister for he had complete faith in god and all of his angels. The priest kneeled in one of the pews and started to pray... "Dear God, or any angels that might be listening. I almost killed a man today, and I beg your forgiveness. If you can hear me, please make the world a better place and…" The Angle Gabriel was in the shower when he picked up the message. The rain ran through his showerhead before heading down to earth. Here, in heaven the water was still pure. It only became sullied by acid and chemicals after it had passed through the firmament. He had just finished washing his long golden hair, which poured over his wide, well-muscled shoulders. His gossamer wings, spun of the morning light were folded behind his back. This prayer seemed as utmost importance. God must hear of it at once. So the Angel Gabriel leapt from his heavenly shower, in such haste that he didn't even dry off. He stepped to the edge of his cloud and was leaping off into the air, wings outstretched when he heard the small voice of a cherub beside him. "Ahem. Excuse me sir. But maybe you shouldn't go to into God's presence in the nude as it were, sir." "Ah yes, thank you. Very good plan." So the Angle Gabriel pulled on his robe (Calvinism Klein, of course) and went to the edge of his cloud, wings stretched to their full span, ready to fly. He looked down, and saw half the population of heaven. His face flushed pink; so half the population of heaven had seen his bum. Nothing for it now, he sighed. He leapt, in a graceful angel dive he flew towards the throne of God. He saw God sitting upon his chair, in his entire heavenly splendor. He bowed down before him, the creator. His divine radiance would have blinded mortal eyes, but immortal angel eyes could see God the way he really was. "A minister, the one real saint in the world today prayed to you today. He asked you to make the world a better place. He is deserving, and I think that you should grant his prayer, especially one as unselfish as this." God only nodded. He pulled the clouds apart and looked down upon earth, his earth. His masterpiece. He took his hand, and Gabriel watched as it filled with some of Gods divine purity. God took some of his light and cast it over the world, giving every human, animal, ant, artist, gull, and nymph a little more happiness. And so the slight power of a butterfly’s wing moved the hand of god. So if you never think for one minute that if you do something small to help just one person, you are not moving mountains instead of clouds, remember this little butterfly. ~* The End *~ ~I always have time to listen to someone talking from their heart~ [This message has been edited by Mysteria (edited 10-14-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 Mysteria 1997 - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
A lovely fable for your granddaughter, indeed! I even enjoyed those parts you put in especially for you adult friends... big smiles...and congratulations on Second Place! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Thank you Sunshine, but it hurt loosing to a darn beetle, butterflies are so darn pretty. |
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Alan Senior Member
since 2000-09-12
Posts 1499right next door |
Mysteria....this is so good. If it came in second then the beetle must have been something else. I myself prefer butterflys alan |
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
That must have been one very special beetle to beat out this wonderful little butterfly... This is great, Mysteria - You, too, make a difference - A very big one, however...  |
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