And wispy, thin clouds drift in from the gulf
On a thick, damp summer breeze
Standing within this openly quiet scene
I reflect, as I do most nights
On the troubles, both near and far
That wrap around this fading world
A branch rustles
A bird calls out
There is a ripple in the air
I hear my breath
And feel my heart
Ache
There is a tension running up my spine
My scalp shrugs off a wave of anxiety
At the thought that there is nothing we can do
To save this world from drowning in it's own sorrow
But I've come home to finish my last chore
One that I've left unfinished for so long
Family strife, both near and far, both large and small
Is what I have to bear
As we wheel through the never ending spiral of time
Success is not guaranteed
Nor, perhaps, is it required
Just the intention may be enough
To free me for the final leap into the vastness
A vastness which can be contained in a cup
Or dumped out into space
To spill and spread through a million stars
In the meantime
I will continue to attempt the impossible task
Of putting an end to war
Though success is not assured, even within myself
A branch rustles
A bird calls out
There is a ripple in the air
I hear my breath
And feel my heart
Ache
And the full moon pokes through tree silhouettes
