The day death came, she saw

A moth holding court

In the corner of the room, a flickering

Sepia shadow, muted

Whispers from the nearby

Ether where her God

Was waiting.

And it fluttered flighty

Morse code, signals of

Transition and how to slip

Behind the veil; softly,

Softly in the fading of

Presence, the evaporating

Senses, she found it

Her silken sunbeam, her chariot,

Her ray of redemption;

Wisdom imparted by a true

Light seeker.