WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?

It was

        so often

  that I,

        secure upon my stem,

Watched the flight of butterflies.

        How,

I wondered,

             did they soar

                  and float

                        above the garden,

Free,

      untethered,

                   loose

                          upon the wind?

So I

        one night

                   when all was dark

And none about to see...

       spread petals wide

               and...

                       let...................go.

Yes...

I

    let go...

          simply

                   detached

Myself

         from stem

                      and all things binding.

Who would have thought

That in the night

                   all unseen,

                                alone,

    a rose

                    could FLY?

Jo Anzalone 2004

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