flight of the butterfly, rising free
Glorious heavenly Father,
Flood me with your light
So that I might be
A kind and loving beacon
Sweet as honeysuckle
Loving, gentle, and kind
Beautiful and real
Daughter, precious, divine
My work is first
My son, follow me
Answer the call
Bend now your knee
Anointing your life
Granting great gifts
Sacred young scribe
Your poetry lifts
Place me now first
In all that you do
Hear now, my words
In love, now pursue