I saw it there, flipping its wings, the sun's bright light
reflecting on its rainbow soul.
It was meant to fly, meant to be free, and even though in
ten  days it will die, for now it lives the most beautiful
life ever.
And some might say they envy it. "How lucky it is to be free
and fly wherever it wants, without anyone to tell him
anything," they will say.
But me? I'll just say: "Poor thing. To have all this freedom
and not to know. Not to be able to take advantege of it. Not
to be able to use the most wonderful gift ever and just fly
away."
What good it is to be free and able if you don't know it? If
you can't enjoy it? What good is it to know it and enjoy it
but not to be free and able?
It seems as though there are tricks playing on us. Just what
we want the most is given to another who cannot appriciate.
Just what we long for more than the world is never given to
us and never will be.
Some will say that we could once fly, that we could once see
and hear and appriciate our freedom.
Even if that is true, we are now cabled, and deaf, and mute,
and blind.
And although our eyes and ears and mouth work, we can't use
them, just as we can't use the freedom and flight we already
have within us. We are just not smart enough to do that.
And people say that humans are the most intelligent
creatures on earth.
But how true is it if we can't even look within ourselves?
I say that we are no more intelligent than any other being.
And that that butterfly, that one that I saw flying away in
the sunlight, he is the smartest of all.
Because he can spread his wings and fly.