Wednesday, March 27, 2024

Fairy Tale Of The Moth

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 Fairy Tale Of The Moth
(a 55)
 
 
 

In the Amazon there's a moth
who lives by drinking the night-tears
of sleeping birds.

By day she's folded asleep
in deep green chambers where purple frogs
sweat pearls of poison.

If she dreams, it's only by accident.
At dawn the birds fly up, eyes
open for song, tears given

without intent or knowledge
as I give mine, silver life
to the mouths of memories.


 
March, 2024
 
 
 
 
Great Peacock Moth, 1889 - Vincent van Gogh
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Process Note: Gorgone macarea is the moth referred to here, one of several species of Lepidoptera who pratice lachryphagy for survival.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Image credits: Blue Morpho Butterfly, 1865 © Martin Johnson Heade 
Great Peacock Moth, 1889 © Vincent Van Gogh 
 
 
 
 
 
 

10 comments:

  1. Oh, my! This poem is incredibly beautiful. The moth who drinks tears is amazing, and the full circle to the narrator's own tears is a perfect closing. It is always so lovely to read you, Joy. This poem was worth waiting for.

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  2. So ethereal and satisfyingly strange! I followed the link and was surprised to learn that drinking of birds' tears was a real thing and not just an amazing poetic device. The ending is so haunting and melancholy and feels inevitable. Beautiful, gorgeous stuff, Hedge.

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  3. What a lovely and magical poem! I really enjoyed it.

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  4. Lovely poem and so beautiful in vivid words. Well Done

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  5. A beautiful full-circle poem, Joy. I especially love the way it ends:

    "...tears given

    without intent or knowledge
    as I give mine, silver life
    to the mouths of memories."

    Hope you are well! :)

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  6. I reread and reread this, getting more and more from it each time. An amazing thing you have done with the prompt words!

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  7. Your poem is exquisite, Joy ... I also read it several times. So much there in a relatively short poem. Thank you.

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  8. So good. A perfect soft moth wing, flutters, dances. Each stanza is a different color, iridescent light moving.

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"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats

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