MOTH UPON THE WINDOW PANE

MOTH UPON THE WINDOW PANE

From the far darkness of the night
A moth has flitted towards the light
To rest upon the window glass-
A barrier it cannot pass.

Now there it rests with wings spread wide,
Lit by the light rayed from inside
That makes a blur of white that lies
Upon its many-sided eyes.

The wings are pale and frail and seem
Like patterns woven from a dream,
With colours from ghost gums that glow
Where moonlit mists swirl to and fro.

Then suddenly it takes to flight
And disappears into the night
To break the spell where I was seeing
Winged wonder of a living being.