"Hawthorne's Butterfly" The Slow tide of dreams, I watch them develop constantly, from distorted and fog filled photos into crisp transformations of Light, my mental darkroom and it's secret chemicals contantly developing strange images, captured in a blink of my 35mm iris I have seen Hawthorne's butterfly, gently drifting, lingering a thousand lives in my mind's eye Our dreams are not so different, mental one way radios, the link with the Lord of creation Oh how softly He speaks at dawn, sending His unseen signals through the desperate and dying universe. From "Notebook Poems"-1989 Copyright T. Byron K. 2000