That Butterfly

I have seen that butterfly before
flit in innocence
from jasmine to rose,
impaled by youth.

I have seen that cockroach
slither out of primeval slime
sadistically squashed
by youth.

I have seen the tender
greenest blades of grass
reach out to the sun
in search of love,
crushed underfoot
by youth.

I have seen such cruelty before,
yet cannot fail to gape
in stunned sadness
as gentle sheep
suddenly bare fangs
and wound their shepherd.

Remove the mist from eyes
squeezed dry of tears:
Steel the heart
to make it hard
as the earth we tread
and which awaits us.