Moth

there is a moth fluttering
inside of me
ebbing and flowing
with the fire of breath
like a winged torch
rising from below
igniting the soles of my feet
in her blind throb
yearning to surrender
and receive the cooling touch
of earth

the wind blows
into her ashes
with the lightness of being
that scatters her past
in a whirling tornado
of grief
connecting land and sky
darkness and light
roots and wings
in the in between
where rainbows are born.