From War Cry on a Prayer Feather, 1979, by Nancy Wood
There are those who hear the voice of wheels
And call it music.
And those who hear a symphony
In butterfly wings.
There are those who ride a highway
And call it beauty.
And those who follow the straight line
Of a spider’s silver thread.
There are those who define living
As existence only
And those who cannot live
Except to define existence first.
There are those who run in circles
And those who simply run
And those who find movement
In the greatest stillness.
Go one way or the other.
Fight for wheels or butterfly wings.
Travel on highways or spider threads.
Take up the cause of movement.
Bury stillness with the dead.
Abandon home for the popular place.
Kill the roots by girdling the tree.
Those who know the greatest comfort
Take not the greatest ease.
Those who prosper most
Prosper more with less.