Captured
Cecropia is carried through the night
on satin wings lined white in their design,
hovers over innocence by moonshine.
A fragrant flower has stopped him in his flight,
and on a petal he prepares to light.
He ceases fluttering so as to dine
upon sweet nectar of his valentine.
And I alone am witness to this sight.
The moth and orchid's union gladdens me
as wayside, I am frozen where I stand,
for what I've found, though simple it may be,
has purpose and is nothing short of grand.
Now captured by the beauty that I see,
I let my net slip gently from my hand.
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