Fireflies dance away
Flinging sparks of light
Rising after the sun
Bids farewell for the night
A luciferous vision
Dances with
The glint of wisdom
Behind the firefly’s flight
Under a frosted carpet
Rolled onto the night sky
Full of starry fires
Familiar cousins of the sun
The flight of light
To the protective edge
Of the frigid horizon
A sight to behold
For the wisdom seekers
In the night
Who are warmed
By the sparks that fly
From the fire
In the mind
Stoked, not by
Paper logs of
A life well lived
But a seeker’s
Desire to see
The long view
Of the eternal dance
Which we join
As hints
Of divinity
In a jar of air
Scrambling on its bottom
For a piece of world
Connected by silicon
Of the length
And breadth of life
Squaring the views of
Decimals and doctrine
Of Marco Polo’s travelogue
Telling of a bumpy ride
On the great silk route
Iterations spanning
Centuries, written
On parchment with
A forsaken feather
Dipped in ink
To the magic
Of weightless pixels
Floating on tablets
Eluding our ancient’s acumen
Of a small jewel of the
Stellar dynasty
Lighting our
Humble abode
Festooned by
The rays of radiant disks
Each ringed by
A thousand yellow petals
A silent but enlightened
Witness to the history of man
Bones are few
From civilizations past
Whose dust is mixed
In every step of the way
To the hallowed fields
Of dreams
Allotted the pride of place
In daydreams
And quiet nights
Which sinners have claimed as paradise
Of the messages
Carried by bumble bees
From stamen to pistil
Bribed by irresistible nectar
We are not the only ones
With a sweet tooth
That’s envied by fish
Its every meal a briny one
Of the rocky giants
Home to boulders and grains
Carrying a time stamp
Of the ebb and flow of glacial ice
Feeding giant timbers
Red as coral
Beacons of peace in the forest
Living off carbon and water
Of lesser thoughts
Gladly acquiesced
Knowing fully well
The knots are tighter
Than a straightjacket
Holding Houdini back
From a great escape
Fashioned by skill and wit
Of cyclical battles
Lobbing metal
To cleanse morality
From atavistic hate
Of circadian
Routines in a bubble
Stretching to hold
Thorny stems of life
Presided over
By light and shadows
That ignorants claim
As an immortal right
Treading a million steps, weary feet
Protected by growing calluses
While fingers hide
Under sharp cut diamonds
Of fluffy pillows
Crushed by heavy burdens
Of weighty thoughts
Longing to lift anchor
And set sail
But tethered by
Sore sinews longing for a respite
From gravity’s drag
Of faithful followers
Mimicking thoughts
Bringing justice or injustice
Actions become dependable clues
Which shape our fabric
Replaced once a generation
But not eternal values
They keep up with time
Shedding darkness, throwing light
In the narrow alleys
Bisecting the wide boulevards
Of less travelled ideas
Whose depths
Are empty or full
Depending on who you ask
And how you dive
In a mariner’s world
Needles point to the magic
Of the stars and
Heavens become guides
Who are looked up to
And not feared
Those without ladders
Are free to sail under its roof
In a primordial soup
Full of latent intentions
Like ocean currents
Directing life
Of men and women
Lost at sea
But declining directions
That promise the safety of bliss
Diluted by impatience
And lost in haste
Toys bearing the stamp of change
Carted for countless miles
On journeys
Which share a circular fate
There are no followers or leaders
In this race
A long view
Of a simmering pangea
Longing for the unity
Of five lands
Resonating with a message
With tranquil authority
Full of solidarity
With the maker of all dreams
Who seeks neither a crown
Nor a throne
Happy to hide
Watching what we call fate
Unfurl its fury
Beauty, love
Peace, war
Wealth or penury
All sealed off
In a vase
Enveloped in a blue cloud
Where fate meets its match
A dragging second hand
Pulled by rusty levers
Struggling to stay in tune
With the eternal clock
Marking everything
From nascent galaxies
To the brief flashes
Of light from a firefly’s belly
- N. Seshadri
