Ode of a January Moth

Slowly opening my bedroom’s window I find myself surrounded by the icy ear of a January morning. Heavy, sharp and not very welcoming, this fresh flow of ear indicates a change in the energy of the earth at the beginning of the New Year. Many would not understand its purifying qualities, both in a physical and spiritual regard. The purity of the ear is synonymous with its clearness, it merges with the discrete light which attempting to create a chromatic balance with the cold colors of buildings from around me. A peculiar moth finds its way through the narrow alleys of the buildings complex, hard to be noticed in a décor of washed up whitish and grayish tones, the little creature starts making circles around my window, perfectly, symmetrically and graciously.

 Cold ear, peaceful surroundings, frozen in the month of January,

Grey and blues with not golden pigments,

January depression had been installed,

Empty, left with no perspectives,

Hallow, narrow, lacking carnality, being blessed with the epistemic and of action,

The sharp wind of January touch the grounds of this maritime settlement,

The Moth, undesirable little creature, flows its tired wind through the heaviness of the cold saline ear,

Different, awkward, never wanted, crossing the skies, valleys and creeks,

Without notice it is touched by the blind rays of light that hang from the sky,

Nothing and nothing it found, nothing is the form of a shelter,

Shhhhpp-shpppp, zop-zop-zop with bing-bing and bang-bang,

A heterogeneous mix of sound and lights,

The Moth, the ugly Moth, being the one who ruined all the natural equations between them.

Not created to be a unifier, but rather a soulless being of no particular function,

Fly, fly ,fly…sun raise, wind, ice and mechanical rust,

Pause, stay, go away, Moth, loose yourself in to the Black Sea fog .