It is not up to us to worry where the sky goes,
Unless that’s the place
We want to go, too.
It should not be our burden,
To wonder why the moon glows.
Unless in that wondering,
We find something that makes us glow too.
We are but flickering lights,
Bundles of energy released by the sun,
so many years ago,
so far away from today.
brought together here, but only for an instant.
The longest one we’ll ever know.
And as if by some magic,
Somehow sewn together,
into things that can feel, and lose,
Little packages of energy,
bound together with such force,
and with such withering complexity,
that it hurts sometimes.
But sometimes, it glows.
A match is lit,
and our life is struck.
And the way that flame twists
is all we’ve got.
But the smoke that is generated,
whisping away into air…
that will speak of us.
And the gleam that our light leaves
in the other’s eye, as they pass by,
so do we go with them.
And if, by chance, our flame might ignite another,
Then we alight,
Not nothing at all,
But everything, always,
Sometimes, the tiniest thing imaginable,
So grand it could make you cry.