Isn’t this about catching butterflies?
Knowing you must set them free,
Allow the gentle wings to stretch away,
On the crest of a whispering breeze,
On a current of warm spring.
Isn’t this about making a memory?
Lighting a beautiful candle in hope,
Even knowing it must go out.
Even knowing it can be held but only in your lonely heart.
Isn’t this about trying to live and walk out?
Like a king riding out to fight a losing battle.
Like a Son of God to a tragic crucifixion.
Or children of God walking slowly to the end.
But you know if all must pass and time end:
Let us take this time and paint bright colours,
Let us dance on these passing spring meadows
Or crash from our beds to catch the Dawn.
Oh let us sing just because it is today.
And we had to escape angry showers
And our knees hurt from running or praying.
And because tomorrow promises us nothing.
And yesterday is a memory fading away.
Let us be not without care but with love,
Under the passing clouds, lost and found in a moment.
In a second that is now and gone for ever.
In a day that lived well could be ours forever.
But that can never be lived again.
(To Huda)
Songs for Huda 