Grasping Freedom As the Wind

GRASPING FREEDOM AS THE WIND Do Butterflies go to and from, Or do they just wander some, Do they land on a flower with intent? Or just when their wings are spent, A small breeze can turn one around, Lift, it off the ground, Do they have homes, nest, or such? or really would that be too much, They say Butterflies are free, But having no home, not even a tree, Aren’t they bound, just a nomad, Not free but driven, aren’t they sad, Do our minds go to and from, Or do we just meander some, Thoughts, actions, people so many things, Much harder to steer than delicate wings, As a breeze turns a butterfly around, A misplaced word makes our knees hit the ground, Aren’t our plans like butterfly wings, Easily tossed, turned, driven hard into things, I don’t think butterflies worry about the night, She sleeps wherever she may lite, Why should we despair the present? Nothing is sure, nothing is meant. But free will have we, Like a ship sailing out to sea, To grasp, cling, to our mind, Only sadness and suffering we find, If you can learn to happily wander, Not easily be scared of the thunder, Then like a butterfly we will be, Cause butterflies are truly free, We learn of joy, we see their suffering plight, Of those who bristle, struggle and fight, If one butterfly is free, Aren’t they all, can this you see? JimKirk (C)