My Messenger
by Doris Baldwin
My Messenger
is the wings of the Butterfly.
Gingery tuching the peals of the flowers
The butterfly etches you are the the breath of
my life.
Each moton whisprs of my devotion.
The butterfly could not speak so he
FINGERSPELLS across the sky.
The birds learn the new song of joy
I watch and painfully teach my hands to tell
your heart.
What the butterfly already knows,for I too can
not speak.
This was written in honor of a deaf teacher I saw in love