by Betsy Love
Seeking the Light
We, like moths drawn to the porch,
seek the light,
But not understanding we beat our wings
against the bulb
And fall wounded to the ground.
Did we fail the lamp
or only ourselves?
Are we meant to lie fluttering
hopeless on the cold stone?
Gossamer wings leaving grey stains
as reminders of our own self-glory.
In whose wings do we find
our salvation?
Whose net snares our safety?
Only when the moth flickers in the
moonlight do we behold the beauty
of an otherwise ugly creature.
Great thought, Betsy! We truly are hard on ourselves and beat ourselves up for too often. I am grateful for a knowledge of the Atonement.
ReplyDeleteBravo! I'm impressed, Betsy. I've read your poem over and over, and each time I gain a deeper feeling. What a great metaphor. Just one thing: I'm just not sure moths at rest are ugly creatures. They probably look beautiful to other moths. However, you do make a point, We humans often wear ourselves out seeking false goals, unprofitable in that we waste time and energy and find ourselves too weak, or too old, or too beaten to find the true light. For such a good cause, perhaps the moths won't mind being insulted.
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