Today I saw two butterflies,
flying through the air;
floating in such freedom,
without a single care.
I imagine in their language,
if they indeed do talk;
one would say to the other:
"Tired of flying- want to walk?"
The other he would say:
"Are you out of your mind my friend!
Surely we might get stepped on-
and that'll be the end!"
The other he'd think "you're right...
and besides our tiny feet-
would take four hundred years,
just to get across the street!"
Together they continued,
thinking happily as butterflies do:
"I'd rather be flying freely...
than be a smudge on someone's shoe!"
(c) Godwin H. Barton