The mongoose danced the circle again
The cobra swayed and spat
The tango of death played on
Yet I have to ask
What profit the mongoose should it the victor be?
It knows not what drives it into conflict
But this has always been the way
‘It’s what I do’ it would want to say

The cat that kills the bird
Leaving the body when the life has gone
Driven to the act by a compulsion
As old as time
The creature knows no regret
For in committing the very act
It has obliged nature’s call
Nothing else, no less, no more

And you and I speak about freedom of choice
We claim to live out the creation of our thoughts
How deep are we in the illusion
To which we’ve so easily succumbed?
Believing in our personal liberty
When all around there are unseen forces at play
So when the bigger picture is finally unveiled
Then we’ll realise the plan that prevailed

The birds fly south as the winter comes
Compelled by an urge unseen
Salmon swim against the flow
Drawn, drawn to the spawning grounds
All believing they’ve made a choice
To do what has been done before
Touched by nature’s age old rules
Convinced of our independence – we fools

You and I believe we are so free
But we can see so very little
The tapestry of life is so large
Yes we are free to choose this or that
The colours in our small part of the weave
However the picture will not change
Freewill exists only in the small choices we’re given
Beyond those all life is being invisibly driven