Grasping, forcing, reaching for a place to land.
Fluttering by each sole soul.
Sirens and cries polluting the music of the wind,
which thus blows.
Blows even further from home, from creation.
O God, let me be a flower of rest.
2 thoughts on “Una Mariposa No Tiene un Punto”
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Love this! Read it with the kids. Your always in our hearts but especially at 9am/12pm. Many blessings! ❤️
lovely Amy… you are a flower of rest!