Poem: Gift

there is a beauty in yearning strings
lush but somber
melancholy and dazzling

but if you want more cheerful counterpoint
I will give it to you

the light at the end of the tunnel
once one gets there
rather than that first distant spark of hope
glimmering and beckoning

not a lamp, but a bonfire
with dancing souls surrounding
and leaping
—not crawling—
looking straight ahead
—not up—