Life is a beautiful thing,
like the wind that blows the blades of grass
on an October morning.
The sky may be grey yet the sun will soon
come shining through.
The pursuit of hopelessness is futile
for there is hope as long as there is life,
and where there is no life,
is a place I know not.
With each fall,
we rise from the ashes
like a phoenix awakening
from the city under curfew.
The world is on fire
and ours for living in abundance
with ever-present signs of a bright future,
when the sky clears.