I was a moth in my dream...
One morning several weeks ago I woke up and I wrote this down.
"Moth View"
The sun rises, and I sleep.
Nestled on this tree, blended in so few can see,
I wait, I wait, I wait.
At high noon, I'm in the shade,
The birds and squirrels all play.
I hear them, and I wait.
At dusk the crickets chirp and cry,
The birds have settled-
Now a darkening sky. And I feel awake.
I reach and stretch- My wings ready,
Antennae feel, I hear the night,
The bats have already taken flight.
I leave my secluded, sheltered place.
I feel alive, the nights embrace--
My head clear...Until I see "It".
Suddenly my wings flutter,
My body shudders. I see it,
A golden orange flicker of light.
As if it were a drug,
My hearts only true love--
The heat, the passion, the draw,
Of the Flame.
All day in the coolness of the shade-
In the safety of my hiding place,
I forget the heat. I live each day without it.
I spend each sunlit hour in recovery,
Trying to mend the burned
And singed places.
And then the night falls, and I am called,
Drawn ever closer and closer.
A bond fire burns, the smoke fills my senses,
I fly with all my might to the source of heat and light.
A source, unlike the sun, that I can reach with ease!
Desire, Ecstasy, Agony!
Joy, Bliss, Burn!
Help!
The fire seems to consume the moth.
People laugh and say- "Why?"
Why did she fly so close?
Didn't she know?
Didn't she understand it could kill her?
At sunrise, I am barely alive.
The cold ashes of the morning cover me like a shroud for the dead.
The fire is no more. My wings are burned beyond repair.
The ground where I lay will become a grave,
And if I can not fly, to one day again reach the fire,
Then I may as well be dead.
As my senses fade,
I try to remember the Flame.
It was all that I loved,
All I ever desired...
Why?
6 comments:
wow... really nice. Wonder what Freud would say! lol
Drawn to the fire...something that could suck the life out of you but drawn like an addict none the less... like the moth... hummm I am feeling like I am with ya here...
Someday I hope to be able to explain this...but I can't right now.
I will add one thing though, and I think I am repeating something you said recently...that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, or wiser anyway. I really thought that this "Flame" would kill me, but kind of the opposite happened.
I have started to bloom, or should I say "morph"? From a moth to a butterfly? LOL! That is a whole switch in species! Anyway, you, of all people, get what I am saying :) Thank you! :)
Kate's right. This is nice. Did you actually hear this (or snippets of it) in your dream? Or was it just inspired by the dream.
Kate, Freud might point to this poem as an example of the unconscious mind's power.
X. It sounds strange, but I was the moth, I saw what the back yard looked like way up in the tree...I could hear the crickets and birds as I dozed off during the day. When it got dark, and the temp dropped...I felt all tingly. And I wasn't clever...really I was kind of mindless, just responding to the way I felt, and then I saw the bondfire off in the distance. And it was the most overwhelming feeling I have ever had. Close to what it felt like when I saw my son for the first time.
Crazy...I know! :) And I was actually sad when I woke up...knowing I (the moth)had died, and knowing nothing could have stopped me.
There is a song by Aimee Mann called "The Moth."
That's where my blog got its address from mothandflame.blogspot.com
It's a different take than your poem, but the same general theme.
Nice job.
I know how it feels to get burned...I keep away...away...away...away...from flames now.....
hurts real bad...flames...
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