One Week Out of Time with the Butterfly Man
by Rose Liberte - Part 2/4

Fugue

Then, January 21st, the unexpected happened. Her father was dying in Bakersfield, California. She was called to his bedside at Mercy Hospital and her sister bought her an emergency round trip flight to California.

Father was 80 years old, dying of Parkinson's, diabetes, pneumonia, Alzheimer's and arthritic pain. Everyone in the family adored him, he was the mild-mannered, gentlest easygoing man, who doted on his children. There never was a better father or husband or son to his mother during his lifetime. It's funny that we don't recognize the beauty of a passing soul, until his whole life is condensed into a tight bundle and all the threads that have woven a beautiful symphony of a life come together in one magnificent chord, the lost chord that we never heard all the days we witnessed it flowing through our loved ones, our friends while they were alive If only we could grasp the inherent beauty of each man, woman and child in our world and love them with the unconditional love all deserve as reflections of the fullness of the glorious Butterfly Nature each caterpillar person shall in truth become in their ultimate stature!

Alan Moore, the "Butterfly Man" was with her by phone and by email comforting her at the death bed of her father. When Father passed on in the most tranquil passing, at the slow dying out of his breathing, until in one last tremor of his body quivering in the hospital bed, his spirit flew out to heaven. She witnessed this passing as she sang "Salve Regina" to her Father. It appeared as if The Queen of Heaven had carried off his soul with a bright sunlight procession of angels winging out over the hospital bed above to higher realms at 6:20 in the morning, the hour of dawn.

She talked to Alan on the phone and he said she might see a sign. He had the sign of a double rainbow when his dog passed on. Perhaps she might be given some sign.

Sure enough, later that afternoon, a double rainbow appeared in the sky and the clouds were backlighted and radiant in splendor. In fact the rainbow appeared on the cover of the next morning's paper, on the front of her father's Obituary notice.

Daily and hourly the fire built within her to meet this man behind the voice, behind the spiritual energy, behind the love and tenderness that was calling her to San Francisco.

Finally, after all the funeral preparations were made, the Memorial Services held, Alan called and told her she was needed at the Board Meeting on Sunday, so she couldn't tarry one day longer and had to rush to SF immediately.

"In the mating of butterflies, first the male creates a hazy fog around the female"

Arriving at Oakland's Greyhound Station, She glanced through the lobby sparsely populated for a glimpse of him. She'd seen several pictures of him and tried to imagine him live before her very eyes. He'd described himself over the phone, so she was sure she would know him as soon as they met. She scanned the room, and no one fitting his description was present. A little discouraged she ran to the ladies room and then back out to the baggage department alongside the bus to search for her bag. As she came in the entryway facing the lobby, she glimpsed a man appearing as a holographic image before her, a man she'd never seen before except in dreams -- it was Alan.

They hugged one another, and she was wrapped in a haze. He led her through the streets of Oakland to Berkeley to meet some of his friends in a dilapidated home that housed the homeless. They were artistic creative people smoking some medical marijuana and discussing the rental costs in the Bay area.

Then they visited Alan's home shared with his various roommates. Rasjidah, a Subud devotee and dedicated Butterfly, who wore a bright purple robe every morning at breakfast; David, a Buddhist with dreadlocks, who sometimes cooked meals at 4:30 in the morning with a lot of pot banging; and another man of Indian descent who wandered in and out. It was a lovely old house surrounded by purple flowers, vines, trees, gardens and grasses blowing in the wind. It had a homey lived-in feeling about it.

Alan, to my surprise was a cigarette smoker. He'd be at the computer collecting emails; making phone calls and appointments; arranging locations, dates, gigs for Diva Bands, organizing fundraising, promotional events across the coast; inviting new people to join the Butterfly Network and encouraging older members to more actively participate. Between phone calls and emails, Alan was often found on the porch thinking and mentally organizing while he smoked. Or he'd take a coffee break for breakfast and read the newspapers scanning them for environmental information or leads to other promotions and activities to engage in. Our favorite breakfast was hot onion bagels, lox with eggs, orange juice and hot coffee creamed with Hazelnut cream.

Our first evening we went for sunset on Indian Rock overlooking the entire Bay from San Jose south to Marin County north. The city spread out around the blue waters of the bay was an awesome jewel in the twilight rippling about that golden orb of fire melting over the Golden Gate Bridge. We sat on Indian Rock carved with steps, as five to fifty others joined in the silent hush of sunset gazing.

We spent a week having the most fun, involved in a wide variety of Butterfly activities. Bit by bit I learned that Alan was expanding and promoting the Butterfly cause under extreme duress and pressures from others around him. His daughter whom he dearly loved, who sings like an angel, has not seen him for three years. He'd lost his home and business in Pennsylvania and his personal possessions were deliberately "lost" by his ex-wife, so despite his financial difficulties, he plugs away bringing forth his vision. One eco-celebrity who would have been a shining star in the promotion of the Butterfly Network World-Wide had a manager that cut her out of the network. Others who could have helped bring the network into bloom were not paying attention or supporting their commitments.

We spent one night listening to a Diva Band, Fontain's Muse performing in San Jose. Alan Moore and the Butterfly Network are promoting the Diva Bands in the bay area, as well as other artists, poets, writers and visionaries. Every activity that expands protection of the biosphere, expands positive influences for World Peace, expands awakening spirituality, and helps people is promoted. We drank coffee at Cafe Trieste in SF, and I read poetry at a poetry reading at Cafe Prague with Allen Cohen, past editor of the SF Oracle (which cafe was subsequently shut for poetry readings by the police). Allen Cohen was behind the scenes creating the original "Be-Ins" in San Francisco, and is an important writer in the Bay Area today, also a member of the Butterfly Board. Several poets shared dinner together and when a bag of bread and butter was left, Allen Cohen and others looked for homeless people to feed them some bread.

Next: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4