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Butterfly Feet

I clean flower beds.

Tiny butterfly feet gently find
Their way up my arm,
Wind their way slowly,
Knowing there is no harm.

I am amazed

At the softness of the steps,
Beauty of the wings.
Colors so beautiful take my breath.
My heart sings.

I ask myself…

Could butterflies be angels
In disguise?
Sent to learn, from their home
Within the skies?

Do they come to feel what we
Feel here down below,
To smell and taste the sweetness,
Experience the morning glow?

I gladly offer my arm…
 
Praying not to confuse,
I do this with great concern,
Knowing this humble human
Also has a lot to learn….

Cecelia








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