My mind wanders down the foot path of thoughts. Each brick a thought I've had before. I skip along like a little child, free, floating on the wings of the butterfly. But if I stop my mind wonders, and then I will look down. The ground will shatter beneath my feet, and fall up into the clouds. Like a child my soul descends, so I look up. I see my thoughts dissolve. The transformation is complete. The change has come, the child is grown. The butterfly comes as a great bird, to lift me up to earth. And I understand.
Change is inevitable.
Change is inevitable.

Join the Discussion
This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!