As vivid as flame trees spitting red against a calm receiving sky,
Blood splatters-- or dark tears staining a light blue cotton shirt,
Destructive thoughts, wild and alive in a gentle, warm breeze,
And hands gripping imaginary hands before falling into dreamless sleep.
As slowly as ocean waves wash typhoon debris from the shore,
The rains clear the air of lingering ghosts from extinguished fires,
Mirrors can now gaze back with eyes, thankful and unafraid,
And fists unfurled for the southwest winds at summer's end.
As deliberate as hand-tinted daguerreotypes in art museums,
And objective distance framed by white marble floors and echoing walls,
The pauses that hang between the tales of old, world-weary souls,
Worth a thousand words that live in fond memory, forever left untold.
*standing ovation*
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