As a moth to the flame

Like the dust upon a moths wing

our thoughts of good before love.

Love; that fabled flame draws

our fragile wings and soft belly

to burn in passionate flash.

the feelers we’ve followed unerringly

melting first before the all powerful onslaught

.

.

We come out; unknowing before

as gold gilded eagles

soaring high on joy’s thermal

Lifted far above the world and it’s calamities

but we perceive all

and guide those still mired in the clay of their creation

Our feathers glint in the sun as a wink from the son

the wings of our new abodes only tiring when heart has it’s fill

A razor like beak now leads: cutting between flesh and bone

The blood red earth and it’s heart of stone

Originally posted on http://tairngir.tumblr.com/page/2

Mar 17 2010