Posts Tagged ‘butterflies’

Butterfly Prayer
Susan Heffron Hajec

In a star-filled Jamaican sky
Souljourner’s voice
sends out a Divine Spark
of love and gentleness
across the calm waters.

A living prayer of protection
and passion transforms
the holy monk’s confined walls
to golden vibrations
of worldwide peace.

They seek
the cry of the wolf
and soothe the ancestor’s
pleas of long ago.



SoulCollage(R) by Susan Heffron Hajec

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donna-knutson-91-year-old-motherMother Evie and Donna Knutson

I gift my friends and readers today with this guest blog. It was actually an entry Donna made on her Facebook page.  When I read it, I paused in appreciation, both of the photo and the text of this story and the beauty of this encounter between mother and daughter.  Napkinwriter


From Donna:   News on Grandma Evie… grandchildren , nieces, nephews and friends who love my 91 year old mom up in Fargo:

So I said to my mom, ” I brought pizza and we are going to try selfies!” which makes her laugh. Then I asked her what was beautiful to her in the world. She talks about her favorite nurse at Bethany Retirement Living. How Gail puts the craziest nail polish on her nails, and tells her about her five dogs, how she stays with her until her pain level gets better again. Gail brushes her 17 year old cat, Timmy.


She wants to know if I’m talking about beautiful faces and I say, “well it’s kind of like that, but you can see their soul shining out. That special place of knowing something about another person that you see within yourself, and you want to be near it.”


We start talking about Audrey Hepburn, and Katherine Hepburn and all the dance movies we grew up watching together. And how women are still moving through barriers…and she looks at me and smiles, ” And you’re going to be a minister.” and I laugh and say, ” Mom, God knew I was always going to be a minister, it just took me a while to catch up !” and she laughs…and then she says,”That’s pretty beautiful !” and I smile, and heal a bit deeper inside of me.


The last thing she tells me before I leave is that someday she is not going to be in pain anymore and that will be alright with her. And, I say, that will be alright with me too, Mom.



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This is my framed butterfly art poster that hangs above my writing desk. It has moved with me to our many abodes and usually found its honored space in my creative room.

I saw this poster in a PBS Signals catalogue long ago and yearned after it in many issues before I plunked down the change and made it my own. These letter formations are actually contained in the real wings of butterflies and the poster is great for up-close brief or lengthy meditations!

I think of the absolute grace and privilege any of us have to create a word that soothes, inspires, warns, captures, embellishes or sends another’s imagination soaring, just by using these shaped letters.

I think of the hours of peace, even during writer’s block, I may count up on my yearly calendars, that still thrill me when I come across a piece I had written long ago. I can hold the paper and bring myself back to the exact moment and feeling I had at the time of its creation.

I think of the power, grace and beauty of the butterfly’s wings and truly our own words need to possess the same.

I think of the courage of the caterpillar in the darkness before it knew (maybe it always knew) what its creation would be, but it kept on doing what it was to do……..the same as a writer often does.

I think of flight and presence….for who can ignore the butterfly, no matter how busy one is. Words have flight and take up presence in the souls and hearts of others. How beautiful, then, are words powered with love and intention.

How fragile, both butterflies and words,…once released, neither can retract into the cocoon, nor the unspoken or unwritten world…so how sacred are both.

How bright and shiny, wondrous and brief is the flight of the butterfly and the reading of a word, yet both possess the power of eternity in our memory.

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