Butterfly Breath

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I am the breath of butterfly wings.

I am the sun, hot on my thighs.

I am the song of the birds,

birds I can not even name.

The garden is not yet planted,

we’ve yet to clear piles of brambles

and make a little patch for daisies and marigolds,

for sunflowers who’s stalks will create

a trellis for trumpets of morning glory.

A small garden for my growing son to water

with a purposeful hose.

I am yellow flowers of summer,

a barking dog, and the breeze off of the bay.

I am now, and here, peaceful

among the butterflies and brambles.

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2 responses »

  1. Pingback: Advice Please- Meditation Hesitation | momasteblog

  2. Pingback: A Love Letter To My Blog | momasteblog

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