Wings of grace...

Along a riverside unknown I rest
To behold the hills in the west
When a million happy butterflies
Descend over velvety blue skies
Adorned in gold they gently play
By the woods where poppies sway
Many stories they love to share
Of distant lands and prairies fair
And as the breeze begins to grow  
Slowly they settle on fallen bough
Bless these little wings of grace
For whom life is not an empty race
Where each day is a new adventure
In pursuit of meaning and space