The beetle that died, lived again

The beetle that died today on my balcony tiles knew how to. It sang till its throat gave way and it had to. Carry on, he sang, carry on mate, bring the spring again, though once already in vain it came, try again, bring it around one more time, spread your mane, let the horses in your head be home-bound, let them seek you out for love and its encore, the pride of belonging when free to mate after the courting’s done. Let light showers begin, the Sun too join ìn not to miss the fun. Let the glancing Sun colour your grey sky undone with Amber glow, let the coast clear for more ships to come, diamonds peek again through the golden sands. Let celebration of life begin for ten years to come, let all the wounds heal. Let us spur Ice apocalypse and bring it to dance to warm calypso and eternity thus begun. How empowered our Sun, the gentle water its chum.

Published by EssenceofPresence

The usual human being with an unusual taste for life

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