Butterfly Effect

I am one who vent an air
Of protest that
When a few butterflies
Flutter their wings
On my side of the world
Would ignite a chain reaction
On the other side of the world
In the far corners of the globe
In the Arctic or the Antarctic

Come what it may be
In philosophical sense
With a scientific slant
And in an investigative mind
But not to stir up
The potential political undertones
But when I ask myself the question
How clean the clean air?

And when I get the answer
That there are 1000 minute particles
Of dust in every cubic metre density
On this planet
But not in the clear looking Iceland
Or the Antarctic
Gets the credit for
Such an accolade
In this contemporary world
When somebody asks me
Are asking the right question?
Lest you get the wrong answer
Of some sort
By the Coal Power Merchants
Of the modern world
Who continue to discover
The latest technology
To clean my air and breath
Sans how to dispose
The vast amount of ashes and sediment
That get deposited
On this tiny Island Paradise

One who was brought up
With the tradition of zero tolerance
In life and matters of discordance
And purity par excellence
Having forced to go
From macro to micro to nano-tolerance
Of the 21st century macroeconomics
Driving me mad
To go to the outer space
For the safety limits of tolerance
In the Dead Space of my lung
But not the Vital Capacity
Which is fast receding
With time and age

But when I think
Of the virulent fungi
That grow endlessly
In the closed tubes
Of the artificial respiratory tracts
Of the Space Station
I wonder
I could be born again
In another Planet
Outside this Solar System
As an alien being of some sort
Bringing the alien wisdom
To this Island Paradise
 
Is it a wishful thinking of mine?