At The Window By Mark Nepo

I read a poem and it resonates. I add it to my blog in case it might resonate with you.
And so it goes:

"I was at the window
when a fly near the latch
was on its back spinning-legs furious, going nowhere.


I thought to swat it
but something in its struggle
was too much my own.


It kept spinning and began to tire.
Without moving closer, I exhaled
steadily, my breath a sudden wind
and the fly found its legs,
rubbed its faceand flew away.


I continued to stare at the latch
hoping that someday,
the breath
of something incomprehensible
would right me and
enable me to fly. "