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| White Butterfly As I sit by this lake, my heart filled with ache, I know I'm not the only one. Not the only one watching For a white butterfly. Another walks through the wood, Knowing he's not understood. As he watches the sky For a white butterfly. Others drive city streets, trying, oh trying Not to weep. For the tears might hide a glimpse Of a small white butterfly. For you see, we've been told when those Wings open and fold, It's the soul of our child They could hold. Wherever we are, we search the skies For those little white butterflies. It's the soul of our child Those wings could hold. Yolonda Moore |
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