somewhere, there is light
that has lived for twelve daybreaks
and dies in a gasp.
there is a child whom
the moon lends a ray of light
but never gets home.
there is a flower
whose petals hold the voice of
a fallen bluebird.
nature ponders these
fallen, tucked in her heart, but
she knows that somewhere,
there is a promise
from the time of lamp-lighters
for children of flame.
there is a home where
children sleep within willows
and they wake up warm.
there is a place where
flowers bend to kiss the breeze
and we are all loved.
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