that which was dark resolves to ashes
constant heart that rides the storm
one day melts into another day
we live in the past necessarily
catching up upon the hour night resumes
the ashes are cast upon the stripes of wind
as the clouds brood over blank fields
finding the back of our head in the mirror
finally to reach into the future
as the storm begins in a quiet broken
winds joining rain as one elemental
the heart that remembers enough
of the meaning caught in the draft
of the wind night hid in that darkness
