This is from a cold evening in March. My friend was leaving town. I went to see her off. We were standing in the parking lot, and I found this on the bonnet of her red car. As if the labyrinth of branches were trying hard to hold on to the car, to keep it from moving, so she could spend another day with me. Only if silhouettes and shadows had that kind of power….
“The Moth don’t care when he sees The Flame.
He might get burned, but he’s in the game.
And once he’s in, he can’t go back, he’ll
Beat his wings ’til he burns them black…
No, The Moth don’t care when he sees The Flame. . .
The Moth don’t care if The Flame is real,
‘Cause Flame and Moth got a sweetheart deal.
And nothing fuels a good flirtation,
Like Need and Anger and Desperation…
No, The Moth don’t care if The Flame is real. . . ”
― Aimee Mann
Love is like a butterfly: It goes where it pleases and it pleases wherever it goes. ~Author Unknown
If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies. ~Author Unknown
संगदिल माज़ी, फिक्र-ए-फर्दा, कोई नाकाम जुस्तजू है राहत हमारी
A merciless past, and a worry for tomorrow, my comfort seems like a worthless pursuit.
“Like a moth to a flame, we become helpless to the beautiful ghosts that true love sheds” – Ryan O’neal
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. ~Rabindranath Tagore