So small my butterfly,
how you do emit this grace,
Awkward do you flutter,
how alive it makes this place.
Such uncalculated motion,
when you sit upon my hand,
Your colors turn the world
undeniably, divinely planned
And how your beauty moves me,
Oh i want to weep.
Calm does sweep the world,
when i watch you sleep.
So small my butterfly,
how you do emit this grace.
Awkward do you flutter,
how alive it makes this place.
2 comments:
I must say this poem was something of a gift. While surfing blogs I came across someone who had become an uncle, for the 2nd time around, and he seemed quite ecstatic about it. I know how exceptionally miraculous children are and felt moved to write a poem to the little one.
Your past few pieces have been utterly moving, especially this one about the small child. I have a child and your words resurged all sorts of marvelous memories regarding the past.
Preparing for the hard road ahead...
True Lover of the East Coast
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