Midst fibs and myths of god’s existence,

I sat hands folded- clenching anger in the prayer, 

But tendrilar strokes of intrigue unfolded, 

then I sat dumbfounded, awestruck there…


Melting into the air,

the products of nothingness,

the ash of burnt up graves of light…

could arouse the spark of lost belief,

of wonder, of amazement,

silently stalking the air,

with god’s own might. 

Image result for agarbatti smoke

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