Moth & Flower

A short story I wrote from Idhaz’s Too Emotional: Rebirth Edition writing 

I am a moth. Some say I am dull looking, unintelligent, and fragile. I know I am much more than what meets your mortal eye. I am eternal. At my worst, I am drawn to a flame that does nothing but distract me, leading me to a mindless escapade of dissonance from my higher self. At my best, I fly in the dark of the night, traveling to visit my flower, a deep blue hydrangea.  I am my most free self in the dark- far away from distracting flames. My grey and dusty purple wings share a dance with the blue petals. 

The wind carries the pollen and life starts its circle. I don’t need a flame to see the golden sparks of pollen fly above our heads. They swirl and twinkle and form shapes like they are constellations in the night sky. Someone sneezes in the distance,  carrying the seedlings to plant elsewhere across the forest. My blue hydrangea lets me rest on one of his green leaves. He tells me “thank you for helping me fly even while I’m rooted in the soil”. “The pleasure is all mine” I reply, my antennae gentle touch my flower’s petals. “May I drink from you”? He says, “I thought you would never ask”. I take in a sip. It tastes like stardust caught in a honeycomb-ancient but timeless. 

Blue Hydrangea lets me take a nap on his green leaf. He tells me stories of plants that came before him and the lessons they have learned from my past ancestors of moths. As I drift off, my flower whispers to me,  “We really were made from the same stuff you know”? “Yeah”? I answer. “Absolutely” he replies. “What is soil to carbon, to stardust, to honey, to pollen, to exoskeleton, to flesh and bone”. It’s all a circle telling us the same story in different fonts and colors. I wake up from my nap, kiss him goodnight, and flutter back to the old cabin just a mile away. I dream of the next dance I get to create with Blue Hydrangea