The Void And The Flame Poem by ashok jadhav

I stand beneath the endless, silent sky,
And feel the weight of questions without end.
What am I but a fleeting thought of dust,
A spark that burns for moments, then dissolves?
The stars are cold, indifferent to my fear,
Yet in their gaze I sense a distant truth.
I search within, through shadowed corridors,
For meaning stitched in memory or prayer.
The heart protests the emptiness it finds,
And yet it reaches toward the unseen light.
Faith, if it comes, is fragile, not assured,
A trembling bridge across the chasm of doubt.
Perhaps existence is the very act
Of facing voids and choosing still to walk.
To seek, to wonder, to bear witness here—
These are the sparks that kindle inner flame,
And in that fragile fire, the soul perceives
Its fleeting place within eternity's sweep.