We Are of Broken Ash

A brief glimpse of evening

Left me on azure drifts, graying

Carrying away this thought, that

And the other, in long sighs

It’s the momentary reprieve

We cling to, work for

Dream of, in wisps of hope

That bounce around like

Dancing treetops in anticipation

Of the coming storm that somehow

Maintains beauty in the violence

Of all its perfect, destructive force

Creating life anew from the

Ashes, remains of the old

It seems as if nothing is wasted

Or without purpose, a grand design

But not us, no, we are ugly, fallen

In ways we cannot see, or know

And we feign satisfaction as it all

Floats away on another long exhale

Before we are snuffed out by one thing

Or this, maybe that, perhaps another

45 comments

      1. I always think of the children at St. Jude’s when I’m asked that question because I’ve lived 70 years and had so many wonderful and not so wonderful experiences. If I pass away tomorrow, that’s okay. I know they will not all make it, but they make me want to love each day as if it were my last.

        Liked by 1 person

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