Underneath the trees,

we stare at the universe as it collapses in on itself.

Maybe it need not be a swirling vortex of entropy;

maybe we need look no further than inside ourselves to

repair all that lies on the outside.

Maybe we need to fix ourselves before moving on to the rest.

 

The fireflies are the sole illumination in an otherwise dark world.

You can only walk your own way for so long before your legs quit on you.

& as we lie under the light of the full moon, we realize just how less broken

we are then originally perceived. If they could see the same value in this world

as us, just think of how much brighter it all could be. Understand what is it to be anyone

but yourself. Only then will we see the day when iniquity is an ancient relic of yesteryear & empathy reigns supreme.