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Saturday, July 17, 2004



Moth

He seemed so wise and warm, safe
So up she flew, drawing close
To whisper all her secrets through the long night.
He smiled, listened, whispered back across the blackness
And night seemed to last forever
Linked by the light of the stars
Their stories drifted and shimmered
An aurora of shared energy
Until she began to believe they were real
And the world shrank beneath her and nothing else
Seemed to matter.

The sun's arrival proved otherwise.
I am still caught here in this dream, she thought,
But now when day has arrived
He is somewhere else, softly shining
On another damp winged fairy
Drawn by the glow of his quiet light.
I am not quite so special as he said
And lonelier than before
For what could be more luminous than the moon
And fantasy so much sweeter than truth.
Eyes opaqued, wings singed, just another moth
Each night returning to circle in her Mach Band of pseudo darkness
Unwilling to surrender herself to the flame
Unable to pull herself away.


Ode to Rumi; Drawn to Light,
an installation by Seyed Alavi

(Fairy Moon image used permission of David Delamare)


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