Devastation is Not the End.
Life moves everywhere in time,
never ceasing its toil to reclaim the blasted land.
Dust will be soil.
Ashes will be a beginning.
Life is process.
Hear yourself speak.
Listen to the sound,
The music unwrapped in pieces
of broken thoughts put back together
in another mind.
It floats in the air, shattered.
I wonder, how do I speak wonder?
Is this room connected to the world?
I am trying to remember
how a puddle of water on a shiny leaf
looks like a piece of ice
in the sunshine of a rainy day.