And the words become butterfly

When two leaves fall off a branch
About to break
Because o f strong winds
They it celebrate their deliverance
A few moments before that of
Shelter for so long
But when one of it makes
To your diary
As a bookmark
And reminds of the words
That a Sufi saint wrote
After his vows of celibacy were broken
In pain
To celebrate
A purposeless detour
But a meaningful exploration
Of the dust
That comes off a book shelf
Where all the books
Were kept
But not read
Lest the knowledge stupefies
The consciousness
And the words become butterfly
The leaf
The book
The butterflies
But the empty sky
The sensation of an aroma
Wrapped around a bouquet
Of flowers
Grown on the manure
Made of the other leaf
The second one
Which withered away slowly
So that I don’t forget the page
Of the book
The page
I wrote
When I was insane
Thankfully
Now
I write
Lest the obituary of sanity
Becomes a gospel
Of modern world

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