Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels
For every grieving generation:
Butterfly wings
And strings of firefly lights in the night
Those wondrous things
To find in children’s smiles!
But at a price – the randomness of life.
Butterflies and firefly lives aren’t free, you see.
Time grants its holy moments, but never forever,
When the joy of life is simple, un-complex.
The joy of Kimberley, mortally concealed but to angels’ eyes.
Like a stone drop in a lake
Rippling to the shore
My love of Child Kimberley
Expands to every child I see.
It’s where and there, in all the faces,
Her loving grace rests faultlessly.
Or like a rainbow arc of childhood kindness
Reaching comfort near and far
Returning solace to the troubled waters of
A grieving parent flooded heart.
How can I go on living without her?
Unless I can feel her soul alive again.
I need to have that.
I’m nothing but a wandering firefly
Who loved a child more than she loved herself.
Why does a child prefer to catch
A flying firefly, than watch?
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