The Sparks there are

The sparks that sizzle and somersault

Give off ignition

Points, springboard and departure

There are just too many

The wealth that wells up within

It is not only a matter of style

The fireworks that dazzle

They are pleasing but fleeting

They are too many to count

Don’t even bother.


More than the times of one’s breathing

That is to say, it is not physical

Metaphysical can they be

And the sparks that show

That come to the fore

Point and find their boarding

They may be too many to count

But what is life

If it can be counted?



Written on 24 March 2015 in Rome

Photo by Suvan Chowdhury from Pexels

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