Does the butterfly choose where a gust takes the wing,
While the buzzard buffers the thermal wind?
The owl swoops in moonlight but does he decide
How silver the glint or the rush of the tide?
The pit viper patiently waits for the shrew,
Though is this a will for the prey passing through?
Do we know how we've made the choices we have?
Maybe that's kind, maybe I'm glad.
Maybe the mind, entangled with time,
Can accept what we have and the choices we've had.