by Krishna Das
Flying At Night
From up here, I can see clearly.
Faint flickering lights hint at the path
of a winding road
That stretches out across the land.
Dice thrown on the table of the night.
The light of a town glares in the distance,
A burning ember held
in the black palm of the night.
People are drawn to this cold fire
to live near others of their kind.I can see their lives from here.
Another faint spark flickers
Let me live there,
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