I feel most at home
When I am beside you.
I am able to breathe freely & abundantly.
You speak kindly to my soul,
& nurture the points of direction
Which I grow.
My sanctuary of peace,
My birds eye view of serenity.
I feel most at home
When I am in view of your garden.
Offering the utmost
Of warmth & affection.
Make no mistake,
I am not there to simply pass time
Nor am I there out of the convenience
Of you.
Being around you takes me
to another world


& I am glad to share in the experience
Of you.
I am in awe at how you transform me
Into a moth, in terms of light.
I’ll follow you anywhere

Somethings are easier to explain than most.
But what gets me is that everyone fails to mention what happens to the moth after the flame is extinguished.
The sorrow that escapes through the air as black smoke.
The burning smell of a wick sweltering in the remains of liquid wax.
Soon to harden as if nothing has happened.
And the moth, forever left with it's essence
Soon left alone, blinded.
Not knowing which way to go