Stealing Serenity

Trickles of dreams

Afloat on wayward streams

Caress and placate my mind today.

As thoughts of a tomorrow

Without its turmoil or sorrow

Float like angel moths my way.

For beyond this world mine

Lay the gentle green pastures

Which are captured in the transparency of a separate time.

For it is here from within dreams like these,

That the whispers of these tiny angels unto my mind do tease.

And it is here that I so chose to return,

as the remains of my former world collapse and burn.

Therefore, I now lift up my eyes

To behold the beauty, which now lies

 in the soft secret place of my mind.

For I watch the angel moth in its splendid and cavorting grace

As it with its buttercup wings

Brushes genteelly against the hollow image my face.

and it is then that, I realize

The joy one can capture

When stealing serenity from the angel moth

In the moments before it greets the sun and dies.

 J. Allen Wilson © 2005