Larvae Poem by Mark Heathcote

The night precipitates I'll sleep
I'll die by the light of the moon
And I'll dream forever wakeful
And larvae in some butterfly cocoon.
The light precipitates I'll wake
Pollen embossed with fields of nectar
I'll taste the holy liquor of eternity.
Join winged vessels with a spectre
They've whispered, as my collector.
He, whose gardens are heavenly captivating
Their body, inner drowsy emptiness
Fulfilling, longing with pardoning.
The night precipitates I'll sleep
The light precipitates I'll wake
And dwell upon the one flower
Born a windbreak; as a keepsake.