Toward Perfection

By Joanne Debiasi

I would run,

like gazelles,

ecstatic with movement,

wind at my heels.

Or fly

like the enchanted butterflies,

soaring, stoutly climbing to the clouds

and beyond,

until I grew lost in the stars and forever.

However,

momentarily grounded,

I crawl slowly but steadfastly,

fanning my wet wings,

glad for an eternity

to fulfill my ambitious desires

and sometimes

a little frightened of letting go of

the last strands

of my silken cocoon.

Photo of the Month by Brad Huntzinger