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Life is driven by wants (sometimes by needs) it should not be controlled by desperation or bestial rage.

The stuff of life fluctuates, with whatever choices we make our wings stealthy eagle-eyed, sharp with focus or gentille as butterflies riding the wind;

Life for each of us will differ but keep our intrests flying...

 

When our highs are low, our minutes in our feelings--our eyes and mind--will notice the shoal, as though our wings are hindered from the heat of our deceptions' coals.

(To think our flight plan spurned, creating our own demons fire, burned.)

Yet when we are high, far above the ground, we cannot see the thingsthat keepour nest warm--our world that is familiar with familal rhapsodies, songs we enjoy, feelings and of touching we employ lost in our successes atmosphere in time will turn to doubtful fears.

If we feign and oblige our days as the Monarch Butterfly, sways with rough or wispy bouts of Life's strings - if too strong for your wings - or harsh in your eyes, it stings ground those moments breathe

a sigh upon a leaf

or eat the nectars so sweet as you wait for a better symphony to play - then glide on your merry way...

to some, this is a weak display of your beauty to show it brightly without dismay, but truthfully it is most difficult to know the instinct of nature's instruments, listening to the notes that make your song or world harmonious

To be in the moment (which is simply to be in your life, not a second or minute or hour, but being aware of your own "now"...living your life, not through someone else's eyes, or worried about tomorrow or stuck in the rut of the past. Being in the moment means just being in your own life.)

So honest yet vunerable

but continue to flutter - to live so joyously or gay,

come what may.