Awe in the divine,
a butterfly of time
flitting by
with perfectly
numerical wings,
curving in infinity.
No matter how many,
each precious sighting
is a reminder of angels,
guardians
of our own divinity,
the third eye’s light,
the reassurance that
a choice is right.
Truth can be all three:
the soul’s intuition,
a desparate cry
from somebody nearby,
a bell’s ring.
The crunch of ice and snow
alongside the whispered promise
of an early spring.
© 2023 | K. Hartless
Late Night Poets | Break on Through Radio Show Airing March 31st in honor of Loïe Fuller.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Love this powerful piece, K. Amazing 💕
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Thank you, Grace. The time butterfly came to me a while back when I was lucky to spot an 11:11. Then Loie Fuller’s movements. made me remember. I’m so glad you enjoyed this piece. Blessing to you, dear friend.💜
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My pleasure. I sure did.💕
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third form self
off and on that shelf
season reason
slow to warm up to fa sho
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