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Spark of Fire

I am the spark of fire

born from animosity.

I do not rue my birth

but transform into

a spark of hope

as I implant myself in

every child

who crosses my path.

I will burn in them

as a light of hope

and humanity,

till they pass me to others.

I will stay alight

with faith and joy

till the end of the world.

Hope

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I stare at the ceiling, wondering if it is 1 or 2 PM. At the corner of the table is a kerosene lantern, not used for many years. I light it and walk into the night. The creatures of the night hush at the sound of footsteps, but the persistent buzz of a bee holds my attention. The bee hovers around a wild plant; an orange bud. The bud sleeps on, unheeding the bee’s buzz and noise. But, the bee does not give up. It sits on the leaves and bends towards the bud, shaking it. Suddenly, there is a loud hiss. It is not the bee, but the flower. It opens up to reveal a yellow inner part, further illuminated by the lamp. The bee moves home and rekindles in my heart the hope to live.

Dawn
orange bud blooms
baby’s first word

My E-Chapbook Published in Proletaria

Hi Friends,

My E-Chapbook, Pinewood Hills, has been published in Proletaria. It contains haiku, one-line poetry and haibun. Proletaria publishes wonderful modern haiku and monostichs. If you like reading haiku and one-line poetry, do visit their site.

Do read and let me know what you think of my work. Here is the link.