Magnus Grace

The sun's glitter and

soft kisses from butterflies;

My heart fluttering.

You are everywhere,
A light path through the forest of
Light pink cherry blossoms in spring.
Petals flutter gently through the air,
Soft as snowflakes, a cascade of petals.

You are everywhere,

sewing soft stitches in unnerved unsteady lines 
still new at old practices, still young as the thread winds 
around a needle’s head, through the almost-fabric like 
skin. 

Familiar is this earthly language, these archives full to the brim. 
It must be how the world got magic, these rhymes of life and limb. 

Ode to those that make life into gold 

that bring us some sparkle as we grow old 

Ode to the places, friends, and small things 

to which credit's unequal to the joy that they bring