In the dark night as I lay sleeping
in the low mist of no-dreaming sleep
a spirit, a little soul came.
There, I can hear you snorting, hrumphing, “ridiculous
why not just say a moth?”
it wa a moth but so light, fluttering, seeking
looking for a little water.
There was a little water, how prudent
how prudent to put a glass of water beside my bed.
Yes, I laughed too to imagine myself taking a good long swallow
of water and moth in the middle of the night.
and down, down, like Jonah he would go.
no three days reprive here. That would have been the end of him.
In the morning when I made my bed and picked up the cool glass of water
I looked to see a sign of life and quickly, quickly before I could make up my mind
threw the water out into the bushes in hopes that he would fly.
there, now do you see why I called him a little soul?