New York City is poetry to me, for so many reasons.  In the midst of the constant whir of activity, random signs are found, if you pay attention.  Some people call them graffiti or street art, but I call them signs, including signs of love….

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…and signs of magic.

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Every now and then, you can also see inspired bits of poetry.  And like many poems I’m still thinking about what this one means.  But I instinctively felt the sentiment of this was so beautiful, I actually gasped.

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I am the beat of a thousand purple butterflies.  

If you pay attention, poetry may unfold right in front of you.

xo, with goodness and grace.

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