"Return",speaks the morn
In a zephyr,
Hearkened unto the heart,
Find home in the journey.
Remember the thought,
Footsteps which lead you here,
Are not be to of tread,
Or of what loath,detest and abhorrence,
Can do for the frail.
Let not be the travel,
Full of sad harp sonnet,
Nor the waltz of the dead.
Remember the flight of a fragile monarch,
The butterflies lift,
Of our grandmother's name,
Be the heart of her ascent,
To amend the wrong of our world.
Time is to only to love,
So return and remember,
The morn when life,
Is the breath one choses,
To take before the glorious,
May bless those of meek gifts.