Within the ash that, in midnight-hearth
Smolders gently with yesterday’s flame:
There, too, is the promise of tomorrow.
New kindled fire. New warmth. New birth.

I, too, like hearth-ash smoking,
Or like squirrel-stolen seed,
Contain within me multitudes.
I, too, am as the sun-in-evening:
Within my end, the beginning.
Within beginning, end.

And, yes, like the wildfire;
Like the old forests;
Like the sun-in-morning:
I, too, shall end. All things pass.
But this is the covenant –

These times shall come round again.
Nothing dies that lives.
So live, ‘til living fades.
And fade, until the dawn.

This piece gives me hope. Still quite proud of it.