The Visitor

A moth always settles on my window pane -
NIGHTLY,
Telling me the secret of my destiny -
IMMOBILE,
Should I listen to it's beating wings?
DESIGNING,
Some fabric in dark somber hues -
IN SILENCE.

Ban my thoughts from it's fluttering-
STACCATO,
Beat; which tells me of the horrors binding my soul -
EMOTIONS,
Left alone in some hidden abyss -
DARKENED,
By crimson and illumined -
NOW,
By this moth of unearthly light -
GROWING.

Harsh thumps on the window pane -
INCREASE,
In tempo upon my soul -
INCREASE,
In content and revelations bold -
UNFOLD,
Into my clumsy sweating palms -
THE SECRET,
Answered in the tempest of the wings -
BEATING.

written May 29, 1982