newly edited old post.

Wish Upon a Monarch [Sep. 7th, 200510:15 pm]
by John M. Schmitt

For the sake of this writing
I choose an extended metaphor
[So I guess you just won’t know
What I’m talking about]
But my message will remain the same.

When I speed home at night
I stick my arm out my window
Feel the aerodynamics change
As I shift my arm
I stare in silence
In front of me are the Pine Barrens
With disabled cars,
Remains of blown tires,
And so much history creeping in the Thick.
Very tired, the eyes burn
When the wind rushes into the front
This is nothing like driving in Buffalo
Nothing.
Never felt sleepy in Buffalo
Never felt weary
But here, I fight the urge to crash
Because of sweet slumber.

My mind wanders
To the same place as always
[So it never really wanders]
But metaphorically, wanders
Where all writings invariably end.

I pray, but
This is not the Supplication, Praise,
Or Petition prayer I learned about in school.
[I think God knows how great He is
And it’s a given that He know I think that also.]
In my belief system and mentality,
I also do not find frivolous prayers of petition
[God, help me win the lottery]
To be a worthy cause,
To be the Good Fight, if you will.
My issues are not of life and death
Nor of impending moral destruction
Instead I have been blessed from Above
And have no need to implore God’s power.
But I pray for one thing
One tiny gift
One spec of wisdom
Clarity.
I say “Lord, clear my mind up
I know all things in Your time, not mine.”
“Let me be wise, and follow my heart
and most importantly, Your Will.”
I sometimes recite a prayer I learned
Written by St. Ignatius Loyola
Founder of the Jesuits
Which asks God to “teach me”
To be a whole list of different, noble traits
All relating to service
“Know that I am doing Your will
And that You have done the same for me”
This is how I keep my head in order
My life, in all areas, needs to start and end
With the Holy Truth
And it does.

However, this is not an affirmation
Of things I hold dear
[I do that enough everyday]
No, the point is
I pray.
I pray as much as people daydream, if not more
And, speeding home, most nights
I pray to have this nervous feeling cease.

I feel like I have insects bouncing
Literally BOUNCING
In my stomach
I am an insect nite club
And everybody’s dancing.
There’s something to this
Because while I do not necessarily enjoy the intial onset
It is something I remember.
It is not painful
And that rules out any number of incidents
Associated with stubbing a toe, falling,
Scraping, cutting, chewing, swearing,
And so on.
No, it is not painful.
not at all.

Perhaps I’m nervous?
Did I forget something?
Did I turn that off?
Did I fill that out correctly?
Do I have my phone, wallet, and keys?
[In that order]
To answer: No, No, Yes, Yes, and Yes respectively.
So it cannot really be nerves.

Perhaps God knows what this is
[There’sreally no need for the word 'perhaps' in those statements]
And in my Mind’s Ear
I silently hear a whisper:
“Think.”
Fair enough. I will try.

I know this feeling
And I know the insects.
I’ve felt it only once before.
Only one time ever before.

Butterflies.

Monarch butterflies.

Bright orange, beautiful
Monarch butterflies.

Chugging around my insides.
Tickling, twisting, dancing sweetly
Monarch butterflies.

Poking at me,
Reminding me
Reminding me of why I set out
Set out writing in the first place.


There are few people in this world
I whole-heartedly trust
Trust enough to write for, about,
Or use any sort of extended metaphors for.
And really, while I speak of him/her
This is about me
Feeling something
Feeling alive.
This is about me wanting to do great things
To “Measure in Love”
To plug in, and connect.
So I pray.
For Clarity.

And God grants it, like He always does.
And looking at my stomach,
From up here,
Butterflies are dancing.
They’re dancing for me.
I think I like that.

Slowly, gracefully
The tiny one breaks away
And passes into sight
Cascading through me
Until it is in plain view
6 inches from my abdomen.
I’m so far beyond enchanted
To smile, or try to touch it.
I just exist.
The tiny one is here
For me, not I for it.

Breaking away, darting to my right,
It vanishes
And then Clarity takes control of my being.
But this is not over
Because there ahead of me,
In my Mind's Eye,
There in a black sweater
And brand new jean skirt
There sits the hurting,
Fallen Jennifer.

[Why such a sad, sullen thing
In such a beautiful happening?
God, why are You showing me this?]

She sits, unsure, with uneasy feelings
About what people can do to one another.
But yet, this is not a sad image.
It is not possible.
She may sit, sob, seemingly sulk
Nod, cry, and nod more
Sing, Laugh, and Reminisce
Fear, feel, and grow nervous
She may be more scared than ever
But here, in front of you, John,
Here tonight
Here with the Monarchs
Here in the Pine Barrens
Tonight
Yes, here
She glows.
She glows as a fire-fly,
As a phoenix glows.
She shares the deepest,
The darkest, most untouched aspects of herself.
The hurt that seemingly lasts
She shares it with you, John.

But it is not sad, nor is it hopeless
Because as I glance up,
I see her outstretched hand
She says “Here. I thought you might want to know.”
There is her Heart
Hurting, yet still beating
Still searching, still needing
Still terrified.
She gives it not out of romantic gesture
Or to “win me over”
But instead shows it,
With painstaking care
And a grace.
[all the while glowing...]
She shows me her heart
Out of Trust
Overcoming the fear in her mind.
I ask her: “What shall I do with it?”
But as I do so
I finally look up at her face
Radiating, iridescently glowing
She just smiles,
[She always smiles]
She laughs, looks away, and cracks:
“Ehh, just don’t tell anybody...”
Capped off with a wink.
I promise not to

...And the Monarchs start dancing...

Feverishly, with a purpose
They want me to know something.
Perhaps God wants me to know something.
Perhaps I want Me to know something.
It feels uneasy.

And Jennifer notices,
“What the matter?”
But there is really nothing wrong
In fact, it is one of those ‘epic’ times
When men recall 40 or 50 years later
Where they were, what they were doing
And who they were with.
And tonight, I am in the car
Speeding home
Alone
With Christine and the Monarchs.
No, I assure her, nothing is wrong
All is fine
All is more than fine.

The soundtrack kicks in
And frankly it doesn’t matter what it is
Because anything beautiful would work
But as I look forward
Jennifer looks back
Holding her Heart
So tenderly, so carefully
I ask: “You see the butterflies, Jenn?”
She nods, as they dance between us
As one lands on her lap.
It, too, glows as it becomes
A part of her now.
“They’re not here for me,” I tell her.
“These butterflies are here for you.”
She smiles, sweetly, and looks up at me
And she glows.
She glows.
The Monarchs glow.
Her eyes glow.

“Why are they dancing?”

And it is then,
In that very moment,
In that space between
Fantasy and Faith
Where every atom in my being
Knows the answer.
[Even God is grinning like a fool]
There, in the car,
In the Pine Barrens
With the windows down
With the wind
The burning eyes
The praying
The glowing Jennifer
The Darkness
The Monarchs
There is the truth.
Just say it!

“They're dancing, Jenn,
Because I love you.
The Monarchs, you see,
Are my heart,
And you make them glow
They are yours to do with
As you wish.
But they will always dance for you-
Always.”

And with that
Another ride home complete;
Another daydream at night;
Another wish upon a Monarch.