Fluttering through the night sky,
A moth lets its imagination run high.
Makes loops and turns amidst all types of light,
Determined to find its destiny tonight.
It follows the stars so far away and opaque,
Dips down towards the moon’s reflection in a lake.
Even pursues a firefly’s bright derrière,
Before being told that it is rude to stare.
Radiant flowers explode across the sky,
But for the moth they grow too high.
It can just barely reach a grain of glittery pollen
Before it extinguishes, leaving the moth feeling solemn.
Then a blinding light appears in the distance.
Making the moth feel it has found the purpose of its existence.
The closer it flies, the less it sees,
But it carries on with optimistic ease.
A growing warmth envelopes it;
Taking it for love the moth submits.
Upon reaching full enlightenment, finally,
One can hear a hiss and the moth ceases to be.