She looks
In dark amber,
Bright eyes—
Watery,
unclouded
Windows—
from them
hidden Purities
of a gray world
are reflected.
No
Heavenly Saint,
But she thanks
for the slightest things,
And Virtues
does she audaciously
Address,
that because of Her,
My feet are rinsed
Ever clean.
I recently had the a rather intimate exchange with a mysterious and delightful creature, and couldn’t help but to share some notions that were inspired by this meaningful event:
“The Moth comes out at night in search of the Light. The night represents the darkness of ones own ego and the pitfalls that accompany it. Moth recognizes that it cannot find its answers in the dark, so it seeks out any form of light to illuminate its heart. The Moth teaches the symbolic meaning of following the Light like it follows the Heart. In fact, the Moth’s light represents the “Light of Heart” that guides all souls along the quest of their destiny. As the Moth follows one light to the next, it sees the mirror of its own heart in the darkness, and remembers that there are no answers in the ego, no matter how many ways the ego may represent itself.”
—universe of symbolism.
“…Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you.
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought,
Save, where you are how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.”
—W.S.
“I am an architect!
they call me a butcher;
I am a pioneer!
they call me primitive;
I am purity!
they call me perverted…”
—M.S.P
I begin to notice that, the heart, after one thing or another, does mature a little
blossoming quietly in the backstreets
Particular Moments 