Transcendent fire on the forest floor
Lifts one higher than before.
Not unlike dust in the wind,
Smoke curls in and out again.
Rising above the trees below
She sees the ashes she did sow.
And in destructions wake it seems,
A moment to take and slowly breathe.
The pale rose sunset against a sky too long,
Ushers in a dimmer dawn.
No use in asking ashes “What if?”
She lifts herself to give the sky a kiss.
Artwork by loish at http://www.loish.net