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|I first wrote this poem ages ago, back when my knowledge of English was a bit, well, absent. Since then I periodically experienced fits of editing and this poem was not spared. So, this is the version 'so far.' Eventually my plan is to write a tiny-teeny book illustrating this poem. Eventually.||
A beautiful flower came to bloom on a glade;
A butterfly came to take rest in his shade.
She fluttered beside him: “Come up, let’s fly free;
We look so alike, after all, you and me.
Let’s fly in the sky and watch sun wake the day;
Let’s let the wind carry us far, far away
To a different land and a different glade –
There under each tree is a different shade.
And then in the night we can watch the moon rise,
Count fire-flies below and bright stars in the skies.
So, what are you waiting for, flower, come on,
For lovely spring days will be gone before long.”
The Flower replied: “How I wish I could fly!
And sing far above the tree-branches!” he sighed.
But Earth-Mother held tight, refused to let go:
“Your place is right here in the cool ground below.
Not one of my children before ever flew,
And what makes you think I will let go of you?
A butterfly’s life is as brief as a flight –
She flies now but she may fall dead the next night.
Would be not foolish to fly, laugh, and sing,
When instead you can live again in the spring.”
The Earth could not understand, nor ever know
The feel of the wind streaming through night glow
A brief life of flight often brings one more joy
Than millions of years in confinement destroy.
|The Legacy||Little Prologue of a Bard|