My soul is the home
of a wounded butterfly.
It sings in prayer
at dawn and dusk.
Heal not my wounds!
Let my songs be born
from the pain of my wounds.
So true. Most of my best songs and poems have been written out of painful situations; either mine or someone else's.
You hide your pains, but gives a singing prayer to the world. I love this poem. A well done poem.
Love this poem, especially the last line! Our pains can be experienced by sharing them with others in our songs. A beautiful expression of compassion. Thank you very much for sharing. RoseAnn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the first lines: My soul is the home of a wounded butterfly. A rich picture you have painted in this piece. Hugs and kisses. xoxo. B.B.