thousands of glints nestled in folds of green
               make their way to me inexorably, gurgling
                  with welcoming laughter
              as I ponder my immobility--serenity without ascension

            craving the freedom of wisps above, unwillingly alive with movement,
           and the chance of soft touches without illusion.
                 the gentle breeze beckons me to hear her whisper--
             "You shall be a butterfly soon... "