Subhaditya Mukherjee

Edition VIII

The Flame and The Shadows - Subhaditya Mukherjee  (photo by Ismael Nieto)Photo credit: Ismael Nieto

The Flame and the Shadows

By Subhaditya Mukherjee

The flame flickers
it’s Shadows rising on the walls
the darkness threatening to drown it’s light.
Will it burn?

The wind hums
it wreaths it’s sadness
in whispers,
the little flame sways in respect
and the breeze gently caresses it in return.

Sometimes we see a brighter spark
overwhelming it’s source
screaming in fury
yet other times bring a marked dullness
almost as if the flame is dying.

If you watch
you can see the dance
the stage itself is alive
squirming in pleasure
the darkness tries to conquer.

The actors are entwined
a couple in each other’s embrace
so close
yet so far apart
as one tries to rule the other.

It’s a miracle how long it can last
this deadly dance of
the eternal flames
and the ageless wind.

We watch
transfixed
frozen in the shadows we are
yet filled with awe.

We light ourselves up
in joy and glory.
We dance with our pain
and the shadows of our misery
yet
we move
unhindered by time;

ageless
timeless
the dance goes on
till one of the actors slip;
a tiny wave and the candle snuffs out
a small spark and the world burns
yet till the end
we keep moving
twirling
until the ground covers our bones.


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