Humankind have dreamed that we could fly--
For thousands of years that dream rode on.
Many of us--some now legends--had to try;
And some of these had to die--
But now, indeed, humankind can fly.
And every rising plane that carries us
Owes its success to the fall of Icarus.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
But there is another, greater, grander flight
That humankind have dreamed of, looking at the night--
And walking in the bright light of the living day.
We see the light, we feel the warmth of life in every bright sun-ray.
We feel so real, despite what science sometimes seems to say:
That we are process only, starting and stopping, briefly lighting clay.
We dream of changing to new life and golden flight,
To carry us heaven-high:
A rebirth of life like the first flight of a brand-new butterfly.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The caterpillar cherishes its life, leaf-munching lazily.
Then, some driving urge arises with ancient power:
The caterpillar begins to act crazily,
Sealing its life up, mausoleum-like, in a self-made crypt.
Then, when sufficient time has slipped,
Emerges beautiful life, the very emblem of beauty:
Life reborn--to live another golden hour.
-----------------------
So we dream.  So I dream.  And now I am at or near the very brink.
What will really happen to me?  When I am pushed at last over the edge.
Although I have a lot of knowledge,
This is one thing that I truly do not know.
Sometimes I don't even know what to think.
But I have seen enough of magic and miracle in this world
To trump the tragedy, and give me hope.  I hope that when I die,
I will find new life someday, somewhere--some rebirth--
Perhaps in some place we could call heaven, or perhaps again on earth--
But if it happens either way--or some other way--
On that day my spirit will fly!
My soul will soar: a brand-new butterfly.

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Written by Michael LP
aka MLP, aka PWC, aka Mr. Poet
(I'm just me)
Copyright © 2010 by M.L.P. All rights reserved