like a Moth to a Flame . . .

like a Moth to a Flame

like a moth to a flame

i followed the fragrant scent of my soul

for at it’s origin

is where i suspect my garden resides

in the amnesiatic existence

many a time i have forgotten

that i was lost

and each day a cost is excised

from the time that i rise

to greet the new day

and it’s warm embracing light

to my final yawn each night

and the ironic metaphor is

again i close my eyes

as i do so much in my “now”

so i follow the fragrant scent of my Soul

like a moth to a flame

(c) 25 January 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.