poetry

A poem: Silver Moths

In the soft wilderness of the day, I exist.

Underneath pebbles there are stories, I hear, 

Listening to the winds dancing, I understand.

Going where this life may lead, I live.  

My body sings of forgotten worlds, I belong.

Moths fly in the spirit of the night, I love.

In golden boxes inside my flying heart, I gather.

Millions of voices echo in my soul, I listen.

Longing for home, for the unknown… I dream.

 

 

 

Picture above taken last year in Paris. 

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