The Dance of Death

Sometimes
all you can do
is to sit
and watch the moths
do their death dance
around the flame
they think is home;
perhaps that's how
they remember
they are moths,
seeking a light
that was never
their own.

Resurrection

the prodigal moth
relentlessly circles
the burning flame -
a whirling dervish
drunk on love
sinks
into oblivion;
singed wings
hold the truth
to resurrection.