Dry, flaky, thin and long
So unassuming -
Quietly, it lay.
Knowing, with baffling certainty
Someday, one day
It would be chosen.
Today. It was.
Allowed to finally free itself
It long and drab form
Transferring, transforming
Fragrant in release.
Filling, fulfilling, its destiny.
It burns. Gladly.
You know that.
Because you sense it.
That joy.
In the fragrance of its soul,
That quietly permeates, often,
Into your own.
Undated (about a year ago, in 2012; discovered while hunting for something else, entirely :D )
Picture: Google Image search for 'incense' :)
