Change

Pink rose swathed in violet light, cool

And lay it shivers against

The bed of damp soil in the early

Morning light. A drop of dew

Summons all the strength it can muster

And breaks against deep brown earth, the

Sweet fragrant sweat of petals who

Themselves one day too shall fall and

Be mourned. It is here that beauty

As we know it comes to an end

In this infinity beyond

Light, At this moment after the

Heavy descent of dusk, it is

Here that tears are shed, words melt into

Sentences, thoughts, dreams, and regrets. It is here that hope ends

And yet

Begins.

For in each new day, each new sunrise

There is new life. And for this we

Must be forever thankful.