Ephemeral Hallucinations

By Divyanka Shaw

In life’s vast sea, I’m humbly a ripple,

knowing somewhere another soul might be just as similarly simple.

Amid countless beings, I’m a tiny spark, 

like poems unheard, drifting through the dark.

Similar verses, in varied forms,

share a purpose deep, in languages diverse, 

and times far and steep. 

Just a brief note in the universe’s song, singing verses others hummed,

a melody not quite wrong.

Writing the same tale in a different rhyme,

I can hold hands with those from another time.

A poem like me, bound to fade away,

Sharing rhymes with others in this timeless sway.

I fear fading away,

Like an old poem in the fray.

Just like I’m seen by everyone else,

similar poems rest on a shared shelf.

They serve a purpose, though not esteemed, undervalued, as if in a dream.

though the poet poured their heart, a cherished creation, a poetic art.

To the world,

It might seem like a well-known song,

like many poems mingling, they all belong.

But to the composer, it’s a cherished part,

the closest rhythm to their heart.

For those who loved them, a subtle trace, 

a reminder of a familiar embrace.

In the echoes of shared tales, I exist,

a simple verse, in the universe’s twist.

By Divyanka Shaw