At the hub of chaos
The beat of a butterfly’s wings
Will make it rain in Des Moines
Instead of Bridgeport

We seek the turning point where dreams manifest
We are the drums of invocation
We are the turning of the gyre
We shout at the instant that the doors of fulfillment crack ajar.
We claim the power of butterfly wings

Our vision is Her vision
Out karma is Her action
Our hope is the sparkle in Her eyes