The conversation turned heavy
discussing God’s existence,
then noticing the time,
my husband opened the door
to retrieve our dinner,
Grub Hub, don’t judge,
a Friday convenience!
Then a moth slipped in
quietly, adroitly,
wearing lime green
and milky white.
It landed on a nearby chair,
and my husband spoke,
“Is it you, Mom?
It’s been 33 years,
and we still miss you so much.”
The moth lifted from the cloth
rising up into the air,
gliding out the door
from which it came.
It was Diane. We believe.
Her entrance was timely,
so perhaps, a reminder.
We gave tears freedom.
We know they’ll revisit
because the many used up
calendars over the years
are irrelevant.
His world was shattered
too soon, but the events
of that day are as vivid
as yesterday’s sunset.
Funny, how a little moth
on its own special journey
lifted our spirits that evening.

© Lauren Scott

Note: A moth’s symbolism varies in each culture, but we choose to
hold onto the light and positive transformation.

© Lauren Scott, BaydreamerWrites.com – All rights reserved.
This blog content cannot be used to train AI.

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