stonepoem : 365

What makes them so special?

They can fly, yes.
They can flash like jewels in summer, yes.
So what, that they flit with beauty’s charm.

We can do all these things too.
We can, you know (but perhaps you do not).
And anyway, who is to say that when we die
we don’t all come back as butterflies?

And such thoughts should not be left
just to the melancholy of you and I.

Ah yes, you and I …
at each end of the line - pulling against
our doubts and fear like brutes in tug of war -
not knowing without wings we can fly.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 1st, 2005 at 5:23 pm and is filed under Situations. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.