Guiding Lights
Cementing Hope
Retired into the late Autumn of our lives
we will write to connect the open ends
of recurring dreams, ideals started and deferred,
once visioned to offer solace, hope,
and direction to the place we inhabit,
our world, now pained, its essence blurred.
We will gather this pain; embrace
and liberate it onto the backs of butterflies
to spread golden dust not unlike
fine red Sahara sand tasked to fill
every crevice and fissure and disseminate
the soft power of enlightenment, bravery and change.
Writing upon a bed of chaos we rise
and pick our minds, plucking at brilliant
thoughts reflected on the vines of creative gems.
Sun-struck moles, we ascend from the depths,
blinking, our foreheads creased and wondersome.
With each found urge to explode and create,
we grasp the chance to sprout a shoot
and watch it blossom into something beautiful
and murmur in accord, “not bad, not bad“
