The ember inside,
To the breezes of fate.
At once red,
Other times grey ashes
Turning and re-tuning
spilling its intentions to
The clutches of time yet unyielding
Other hours, quiet,
Cast into the rush of stranger’s time.
The ember’s glow
Beholden to a friendly breath,
As the myriads flow, to overcome their tongue-tied selves
In the face of its wholesomeness,
Beautifully weak, we must walk…
Drawing that breath, immeasurable
Our ember knows
There the world grows, tenfold
In the smile of a face familiar,
Where we revel
In the truest sense.