The Moth

I think of the moth, the large one that landed
near me with beautiful eyelets on its red-brown wings,
folding and unfolding gracefully
close to my window.
To think that I was scared!
And frightened of the forest nearby, so dense and dark,
too. Years later -- formed by life -- I realized,
how am I so different
from the strange moth?
I too am made of patterns, symmetries --
and ornate threadings
that flicker in the innermost part of my being.