What was once a fire left embers, covered in ash,
Pale black sooty bales of cotton rose into the atmosphere,
Emanating from once upon a time amber flames of camphor,
Like a campfire in the wake of a rainy night,


And my head like the canopy branches,
Collects small droplets of moments,Harvesting into a stream of thoughts,
Which serve to feed a river of words,
Flowing in rhythm and emptying into an ocean of poems,


But some follow a different path,
Crashing into the rocks,splashing and draining into the soil
For the insects of the earth
Some cuddle up in puddles and pools
Longing patiently for some sun hoping to dry up



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