The Butterflies

From my vantage point
In my second floor room,
At a certain time of the year,
I get to see a fantastic sight.

The tree before my window
Is a very greedy tree –
Hundreds of thousands of butterflies
Are held captive by it.

But when autumn comes
And a strong wind rises,
The tree can hold them no more.
Then, these butterflies break free.

When the wind comes
And sets them free,
These butterflies
Do not fly away immediately.

For a while
They twirl and float around
Their place of captivity,
Before descending finally
To their flight of glory.

Come to think of it now,
In that short while,
These butterflies, most probably,
Stick their tongues out at the greedy tree
And proclaim,
“Weeee. I’m free. I’m free.”

And then, hundreds of butterflies
Fly around on the whims of the wind.
Some reach beyond the compound wall,
And some go out of sight.

Finally, all these butterflies
End their flight by falling to the ground.
And on landing,
They turn into dead leaves.

Of course, there are unlucky ones
Which die the moment they break free
And just like any other dead leaf,
Fall straight down.