—Anjum Wasim Dar
Think not of me as a tender butterfly, though I am a painted lady, breeding in Royal State. Beware! I am deadly, my habitat disturbed, not comforting.
I hide and rest by day, not for fear of the
butterfly. I believe in peaceful coexistence,
having a long witch’s nose, not casting spells,
keratin I love, in cashmere, wool, angora, fur.
Yes I often hit the wall. I am confused by light,
but when I fly by it, I frighten the flame. I love
to play the game. I bite, chew from side to side,
hiding in basements, cool fabric folds, inside.
Nature created me to warn mankind of the
temporal world. Whatever lies unused, I eat
and destroy, so the world ends. And I, too, die.
Or else, so delicate, how long can I fly?
Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth,
where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves
break through and steal, but lay up for yourselves
treasures in heaven, away from moths and all decay.
(Italics qouted from Matthew 6:19-20 KJV)
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