FIRES

Reads: 241  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
No matter how down we are, how lost things seem, if you go to the top of a hill in the evening and look at a town you have hope. People are there, singing songs, lighting lights, making love.

Submitted: February 07, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 07, 2007

A A A

A A A


Now are the days of cold and gray, broken by whispers of song,

or the quiet of tears.

Reverence is shown for the gift of "now", sorrow given for the past.

Those who cry, cry not for others but themselves; words said or deeds

that were done.

Ecstasy is poured out for what is, or will be, with the love that is poured

out only for the soul.

Stars give way to the sun, but the dreams are what light the day.

Sunlight goes and specks of light in the distance are the fires and

candles that are lit, all to tell the universe

We are!


© Copyright 2018 bluejazz64. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply