I will write a poem without pain
Despite crying disdain for inflicting it’s stain
Or feeling its sting while afflicted by shame
Day by day seeping into a daze
My suffering is minimal in many ways
If one is worse I should be able
To lift myself from this haze
I will write a poem without pain
Dancing lazily in the game
For I am not living this life in vain
I saw the stars this morning
The sun had not yet climbed the shingled roofs
Nor surmounted the plumes of smoke
Produced by the slumbering city
Each a fleck of twinkling perfection
My eyes gleamed alongside them
In a vast gift
A sight to behold
These gems of the sky are deceptive
They hide their torment
The destruction that defines their state
They are dead and dying.
That which is beautiful
Is temporary
Breathe in the expanse
The comforting peace
This quiet morning
For it is not forever
Although we wish it to be
There will be a last
Air leaves the lungs
Carrying the soul in its glow
These precious stars shine
Despite their fate
Despite their circumstance
Do not grieve
Let the feeling linger
Let the light bathe you
Do not taint it with sadness
For it happened
It was wonderful
I saw the stars this morning
And it was wonderful.
