doodles

The fly

There's fly on my knee

it landed there a moment ago

No radar, no landing lights

no traffic control

And now it's gone

off and away

a free soul

... no one is telling it what to do

It must have a soul

to be so free

and for that soul to be the catalyst

for all those countless equations

used in those flights

Chemistry, navigation

geometry and meteorology -

to name just a few.

And if I can't even repair

one of its many joints

or lubricate the odd wing fulcrum,

let alone begin to understand

how it flies  like that,

or lands on the ceiling upside down -

I can't do that

What right have I

or what reason -

to swat it?