Contrary to what my title seems like, I'm not actually starting my next series yet. No, this is the name of a poem.
The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing
against a white stone…
Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly ‘way up high.
It went away I'm sure because it wished to
kiss the world goodbye.
For seven weeks I've lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto
But I have found my people here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut candles in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.
That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don't live in here,
In the ghetto.
Pavel Friedmann 4.6.1942
The Butterfly Project was shared with me today by CauldronKeeper. It is an effort by the Holocaust Museum Houston (and the world) to remember the 1.5 million children who died during the holocaust. You can find out more at their website, but the short of it is that they are collecting butterflies...1.5 million of them.
CauldronKeeper is making a butterfly, and I am going to as well. I'm thinking embroidery, but we shall see!
On a side note, I'm feeling better. I'm really trying not to over do it and get worse again.
Hope you all have a great day!