Stormvisions

The Birth of Hope

swiftly pour
the sparkling sands
though fingers stretch
to slow them,

into that ancient
cradle blue
returned
by careless time

earthen jar
now emptied out
falls crumbling
to the shoreline,

while briny tears
like glittering jewels,
are cast
for pauper’s solace,

now darkest night
the silence calls,
to devour
all earthly splendor.

til all seems gone
and naught remains,
save salt
upon the tongue.

rises then
from inky depths
a spark
on far horizon?

too small
it seems
against the void
to offer any succor

then fulgent rays
blaze bright and cast
full wide
their primal glory

pierce black despair
with silvered shafts
fletched
with angel’s splendor

to bear the seed,
whose hardy flame
ignites
the golden lamp.

Note: I wrote this quite a while ago and found it in my old DropBox folder. The images are AI generated.