The Fire Fly and I under a Willow Tree

Only if there had been a fire fly! 

Me reaching out to

May be catch it. 

Both of us,

There, 

Surrounded by the grey sky, 

Grey and enormous, 

On a vast barren land, 

Or may be under a huge willow tree. 

Both of us,

There,

Looking out at the vastness,

The enormity

Of both the sky

And the tree

Me, just sitting there,

Looking into nothingness

and everything

At the same time. 

The fire fly,

Fluttering

Away from me, 

Towards

The same nothingness. 

How infinitesimal

Was I to the sky! 

How infinitesimal

Was the fire to me! 

Yet,

That night

Under the grey skies

The infinitesimal I

And the fly. 

Me and the fly

Not as trivial

As I had thought us to be

But something. 

Me, something,

May be to the souls, 

The lost souls hiding

In the borrows

Of the Willow Tree. 

The fire fly, something,

May be to my soul, 

The wandering soul

In the recesses

Of my heart.

Only if there had been a fire fly,

Vast grey skies,

A willow tree,

And I.

One long night.

All of us there

And nothing at all.