Pure As A Flame

Sleepwalking in unlit
night, grabbing the
moon, for a bite.

Very difficult to chew
the contradictions, to relieve
the heartache.

Endless drumming of
woodpecker to mark territory.
A war begins for insects.

It was the Adam’s instinct.
I will not fall on
the burning coals.

In a dewdrop you will
see a miniature tree,
shaping out for the sun.

Satish Verma