Shadows and Sparks ۔۔۔۔ akshr

Shadows and Sparks

The morning carries no promise of flame,
Just the quiet hum of the ordinary,
Until the skin remembers its own name,
And the heavy air begins to carry.

It is not the absence of the dark,
Nor a path completely free of pain,
But the sudden, wild, disruptive spark
That dances through the falling rain.

To feel the lungs expand and fill,
To watch the shifting edge of the tide,
To stand atop a windswept hill,
With nothing left to mask or hide.

The heart is more than a rhythmic clock;
It is a fire waiting to break the stone.
It is the current shattering the dock,
Reminding us we are not bone alone.

We wake from sleep to find the shore,
To taste the salt and meet the sky.
We are not ghosts behind a locked door—
We are the light that refuses to die.

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