Kindlelight

 

Things come crashing sometimes
and you can't stop the action from passing,
only wait to harvest the collected ashes.

 

But all is driven;
each chaos has reason to be written
and with it, opportunity to re-examine,
interpret, or mope over the tragic.

 

I think with dissemination of every song
comes reassembly of needed silence
and soon, the basic beat from which to build
bigger harmony than before.

 

We are left cold in nighttime's solitude
but kindled by tomorrow's sun:
incentive to endure.

 

 

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