Gushing by the city,
swiftly he flew; cutting across trees and concrete galore
Fluid was his motion,
swooshing was his gait; diminished all objects like in a park, a stroll
Above and below every
obstruction, he believed in his freedom, his power, his might
Until he encountered
the sparkling beauty; enclosed in a jar, grinning at his plight
He stopped for a
moment, combating his nature; gazed at the splendor of her penetrating glow
Wondered how a spark
with such humble origins could possibly confront his vehement blow
He swooshed, he
twirled, encompassed the sheath; watched violent strokes failing to subdue her
smile
Agonized, aggravated,
he put forth the question, “What makes thee shine, ebbing the hostile?”
She chuckled and
spun, a dramatic foreplay; slightly proceeding to the glass that he tapped
Warm eyes burning
with passion deep, she spoke her heart out, her mannerisms apt
“I shine for the ones
discouraged by fate; I shine for the souls of my martyrs
For the ones crestfallen
by rejection, for my cities shredded down to tatters
“I shine for my
strivers, my opportunists, my volunteers in changing the world
For guides to the
path of Light, for the Holy teachers spreading the word
“I shine for all that
is moral, hoping humility grows into a common virtue
I shine simply for
‘knowledge’; for that is all this universe must pursue”
Touched by her words,
the wind flashed a smile and gently bid her adieu
His reach was far
more than could ever be the flame’s, pondered on his path as he blew
From then on, he
swore to use his scope better, to transform the world as he had known
He’d always remember the
enlightening thoughts of the diminutive light that shone...
