Posted in Poems and muses by me

The Lost Art of Burning

She listened to me and told me radiantly
“You are the light. I can see your sparkles.”

Hence, I often chose to live aflame, illuminating.

And let her words resonate through me.

I burn, burn and burn endlessly indifferent to circumstances.

She smiles in me and in the burst and swirl and dance of tiny sparkling particles.

In a sudden blaze of fire or a thin flickering flame.

She lightly sits on the radius and dissolves in me.

I soak up the exuberant dynamic spark called life,

The impetus that lets me choose to stand alone in the middle of fire.

And I draw newer glimmering shades from inside me.

Only when I decide.

So that the art of burning into dazzling flames is never lost.


Smita Ray

* Free picture saved from Google.



A busy mom!

2 thoughts on “The Lost Art of Burning

  1. So poetically expressed Smita. Does such form of love exists even today? If it does, I would love to be a part of it someday 🙂

    1. Thanks so much Neal. Your words are always is for my mother but all I had in my mind then was integrity, authenticity, finding meaning in chaos and confusion etc.🙂

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