Wednesday, February 01, 2012

A firefly in the city

A woods-indwelling in city wand'ring, a dew fallen on dry earth! I was in the internet cafe one midnight blogging; I was on my way home one o'clock w-a-l-k-i-n-g. And, as I turned left to a lonely road lined with trees on the side, suddenly, out of nowhere, a solitary, black, round, flying torch-bearer came down upon me. It was looking for a spot in me where to step on. I raised my left hand slowly, open, offering. It landed on the tip of my mid-finger. Wings fluttering. Itself strutting, jumping. And lamp twinkling, touching my skin. Like it was happy to see me, to meet me, to feel me -- again (!). I was happy -- no, it was a joy! -- to meet a firefly in the city. It was an experience of the spirit. Of the soul. Of an angel. Godly. It flew away then and I w-a-l-k-e-d on, and I looked back. Where'll the firefly go? Will it go back to the woods of my memory?

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