Grace and Miracles

Under the hills,
Quiet fires, spirits
Are awakening

Blessings on you
Who live, they call
Our own voices

As in their places
We too shall call
Our own unborn

Under hills, this love
This grace flows
Through everything

Chestnut and oak
Budding, the earth
Is willing us

Red rose petal lifts
Timeless loss, as the
Butterfly hovers.

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