Song of the Atlas Moth

Wings of geometric lattice rest in perfect arc upon cocoon.

Long forgotten in the dark of nature’s attic,

this little atlas moth shall soon embark upon the moon.

*

Only in the ink-black cloth of midnight does her cinnabar acanthus bloom.

A peculiar work of art she is, organic;

wings of geometric lattice rest in perfect arc upon cocoon.

*

She hid away upon an ark once - escaping Bible tragedy and doom.

Not quite a Northstar fit to compass the Atlantic,

this little atlas moth shall soon embark upon the moon.

*

The daylight never loved her (she) was only ever drafted by the gloom.

So underneath a peppered sky of stars she feathers out her magic -

wings of geometric lattice rest in perfect arc upon cocoon.

*

Oh, she yearns to be a lark (and) make the manic sun above her swoon.

Or to to travel south the way of Monarch butterflies, romantic;

this little atlas moth shall soon embark upon the moon.

*

Longitude and latitude lay mapped across telluric plumes.

Born of earth (she is) but beckoned more and more by sky, you see, galactic -

wings of geometric lattice rest in perfect arc upon cocoon:

this little atlas moth shall soon embark upon the moon.

***

-Gina C. 🧚‍♀️✨

***

Author's Note: Atlas moths are large, cinnamon-colored Saturniidae (silkworm moths) and are native to Asia. They are gentle, nocturnal giants that typically have a wingspan greater than that of a human hand.

Though they are named after Atlas of Greek Mythology and not actually a book of maps, I had fun spinning and giving meaning to the latter here. :)

Dedicated to anyone who always feels just a bit out of place. 🖤