(Maybe it was me?)
That the fly that crosses the room
Zigging and zagging
Bobbing and weaving,
Its wanton wanderings,
Is doing exactly,
Exactly as nature has intended;
No foolish effort
No wasted energy
No time ill spent.
And every effort, if observed and considered
Is purposeful and practical in its life ways
And brilliantly, blithefully
Evolved and adapted for its sure
Successful mission in the life of a fly.
So stretching this truth to its probable bounds
This wisdom of the ages
Dances and displays all around us each and every day
There, but for the asking…
And so I consider the efforted attentiveness
That can be given to such study,
If we open our hearts and minds,
Or the foolishness found in our human ignorance
Of such wisdoms…
Can we learn to live and be fly-wise?
Or is our peril folly
And likely to lead us to
Our ultimate demise?