THE VOLCANO
Amidst stolen moments
Of delirium
Flowers of fire
Fallen asleep,
In their dreams
Violent storms
Shook their
Tiny wings
Then in half consciousness
They hear the thunder-
Of tides; when they
Break themselves -
On hot rocks.
Pearl beads
Leave the thread,
For freedom
And start rolling
Towards the sea;
Just to lie
Unseen in the
Sea sand bed.
The sky ;
Burn bright ,
And below; deep
In the crevices
Of earth-
Darkness is
Boiling; to rise
Upwards.....
