I saw a butterfly one day
Delicate as lace
I pondered as I slowly walked
What god had made his angel face?
Passing by the swans glassy lake
A hummingbird swooped low
I wondered as I trailed on
What made his strength and beauty so?
The horse galloped with regal might
And once again my thought took flight
Human, bird or butterfly
What god has made you and I?
The old woman.
There she lies
Half clothed in anger and terror
What is the justice of this world?
The sky smoulders in the bloodlust
Rolling clouds engulf her hatred.
And the voices she hears calling
Floating on a breeze of serenity
Up she looks her outstretched hand
Reaching to the sky
To her loved and lost
Her weathered skin brightens
Hope highlighting the childish glint of her eyes
lost in the deserted face
‘im going home'
She sighs with relief
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