(wings)

Do not imprison in thy strong hands
The delicate painted butterfly.
Force her not to tremble
And disperse the magical dust
Which tempts such delicate wings to flight.

Extend instead a tender palm
To feel the brush of tiny feet
And the slightest breeze of flapping wings
As she cometh willingly
To rest within thy gentleness.

Allow her to be free.



SJL: March, 2003