change of perspective

refraction, reflection and my image took forms like fish and bird, swimming and galloping into blue skies and oceans while worms infested my mind, beckoning for a predator to fulfill destiny as another path crisscrosses with butterflies not wanting to end their days in sunshine: the cold winter arrives, wings become stiff and a worm burrows deep into warm earth. fly, fly, to winter ice and be frozen as an immortal, life flourishes in the humid ground, deep inside mother earth giving love. a fish gobbles up bait not wanting to be one, the fish cares not for what destiny holds, a change of mind matters not when life wriggles unhappily within the cavities, no longer wanting to go on to that next stage. a little late for that! don't you think? the bird eyed the careful fish darting in crevices, aware of hawks above, vultures, eagles, birds targeting an ocean swimming with life, like mother earth eager to embrace, give, nourish. which one am i? the mind echoes back in the cove deep within brown earth while water enters, nudges at birds now quite full with life, filled inside with fishes not quite aware they are already dead. dead? how so, when the refraction contracts, the reflection a missed life raced by when two shadows brushed passed, and one said to the other it was an awful life to begin with, then the mind elongates, statues, grave stones, iced wings no longer able to fly said of life once like jewel, a promise, like a rainbow cloud that is soft, cuddly, lovable, sleep comes easily when dreams go on. the dazzling life does not want to forget life's best moments, and worms ate inside the fish, inside the bird, found the warm sea and took up wings to taste heaven immortal. and trees they feasted on the wet ground filled with yesterday's glory, heroes and heroines, life that held heaven for one moment. trees, old and aged, they do not grumble, nor distort, change the story, simply a part of the landscape almost like they have never left, never would go, ignored for the most part ... ... while the sun beckons, the immortals melt, doll houses crash, the makeup leaves, summer spurns winter and still the trees they always remain. like earth, like the sky, like heaven still being chased by worms.