Luna moth with torn wing
Flutters on the edge of fate.
Destined to die, beautiful,
Tragically fragile thing.
<>
Can you hear the gentle breeze
Play upon a tattered membrane
A melody—
Broken—
Scattered to the wind,
A desperate song
No one dares to sing?
***** * *****
His mind was a mansion, haunted.
Blood-curdling screams
Echoed
Like fleeting shadows
In the cavernous spaces
Between the crumbling walls.
<>
She was lost there
Where neither God lurked
Nor devil dwelled
With only the undead life
That stirs
In the deep
Where men hide
Their darkest fears.
<>
She was lost there
But she felt at home.
***** * *****
It dreamed
But it knew not of what
Or of what it was
Or of what it should be.
It dreamed of you
And it dreamed of me.
It dreamed
And it did not heed
The desperate song
Of a tattered wing
And even as it died
It dreamed, it lived,
It perished no more
In that secret place
Where neither God dwelled
Nor devil lurked.
<>
Yes, it dreamed
Of gardens evermore,
A breeze that always sings,
The eternal resting place
Of tragically fragile things.
<>
Beautiful.
***** * *****
Rommentary:
I discovered the Luna Moth pictured above hanging out on the side of the dock at the warehouse where I work. I can positively identify him as a male of the species, as the females look different. I imagined him, over the course of the day, coming to terms with his irrevocable loss in such a peaceful way, hanging out on the side of a building, waiting to perish, a dream within a dream.
I marked his appearance a synchronistic interface with the Divine, as I only just penned a story where a Luna Moth made a prominent appearance, which you can read below. Not that they are uncommon around here, but I have only seen two in all the years I've lived in Indy, about a decade apart, and the last time one landed in my life, I also wrote a poem, Moths: A Romantic Death, which was later published in This Tree.
Here's the story:
About the Creator
C. Rommial Butler
C. Rommial Butler is a writer, musician and philosopher from Indianapolis, IN. His works can be found online through multiple streaming services and booksellers.
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Comments (13)
Rommie, I love it. It’s stunning. Those last two stanzas make my heart ache. I hope there’s a place like this at the end for all of us tender creatures. Dreaming as we would dream, without forces acting upon our little spirits. I miss you, dear friend. It’s been a week! Nothing out of the ordinary, just many things. I will return your lovely missive tonight when I get home from the wedding I’m shooting 🌙
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Intriguing!!!
Beautiful and sad, such a lovely and delicate thing is a moth or butterfly. I would happily sit by that dock and compose some beauties. Wistfully poignant poetry.
Oh this was quite sad. I loved it though.
Wow amazing haunting powm
What an amazing and haunting poem. Excellent.
Wow… incredible work. So hauntingly beautiful.
So moving, gentle and cooing with the rhythm of life, nature's beats toward death ,dreams and beyond.
Stunningly beautiful, poignant but sad. I really enjoyed your afterward too and thanks for explaining C. Rommial. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a moth like that before.
Why do I have the feeling that I've seen that photo and read this poem before?
Beautifully evocative piece. I like the switch of "dwelled" and "lurked". They're a strange-looking moth, Rommi. How big for scale?
Beautifully devastating! Excellent work, Rommi! -His mind was a mansion, haunted.- 😮