Saints

 

All my broken winged

butterfly thoughts

groaned-

at the foot of the saintly tree.

Its leaves stirred-

Its balmy boughs spelled

a miracle

till each single

nymphalid or ringlet

could soar high-

I saw the saint smile

having read my prayer

to moor forever there.

May I always be

where all my saints live

in the land of trees.

 

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Saints @ Poets United

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18 thoughts on “Saints

  1. Each and very tree is a saint and they sacrifice their every part for the betterment of us.What a nice perspective you have put for the saints.

  2. I went on a beautiful trip this weekend to the mountains and we took a train up through them which was a treat. An old locomotive moving slow enough that we could truly enjoy them. There were places there where there once was moss that was as deep as 5 feet. It is hard to imagine. But being surrounded by those trees I found much peace. Just to breathe a free as they, it was refreshing.

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Thank You :)

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