My heart is a moth drawn to the light
Joyfully dancing around its shell.
In its passionate joy it realizes not
The battered body and wings it sustains.
Departing at dawn to dream of its quest,
When next night falls it finds a flame.
Opened warmth, enticing it to touch
Quest sought and found, it flies within
And is consumed.
Centuries of absolute love have failed to breed
Within the moth a trait for withholding.
Nor has the weeping sight of moths consumed
Enlightened the centuries of lovers and poets
To the dangers of their hearts inflamed.
Likewise we are consumed
And yet, reborn.
About Me
- Beth Chapman
- Owatonna, Minnesota, United States
- I have begun a path, though I know not where, to a journey’s end that is calling. Along the way I pause to absorb the metaphors and images of this life, which are so precious. Here you shall find me brave, you shall find me pondering, you shall find me searching, and you shall find me collecting the images and metaphors like shells upon the beach. I am very much like the little monkey wearing a dapper hat, playing the cymbals and drum and dancing a jig. I do not have it all figured out, I may be learning to write, but one thing I do know and that is how to collect the shells on the beach of my beloved Gulf Shores. I offer these shells to you.
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