This Blessed, Life Poem by Mark Heathcote

This blessed life is just the beginning.
10-fingers and 10-toes, and a name tag.
Spring is in the air, and the flowers are brimming.
Horse in the stable, head in a nosebag
She is neighing and skipping her tail swishing.
Frogs near lily pads by the riverbank
are leaping without any misgiving.
Everywhere, a loud bird song-swank.
Joyous as a butterfly's toes warm molten
filtering those first few morning sun rays
through its soft wings, body, and abdomen
this blessed life abounds with many clichés.
But, no question, it is truly a gift.
Even at times when life was cut adrift.