Two years ago was the last day of the old world.
We are still trying to find our way back,
but I think the flaw in that plan is
that there is no way back,
there is only forward.
We are forging a new world now,
one where we’ve realized that maybe
strangers are not as kind as we’d hoped,
where we’re teetering on the
fine line of a tightrope,
praying with all we have left
that we won’t plunge into the
abyss that lurks below.
But even in this age of shadow,
there are soft promises of light
shining out in the little things,
neighbors helping neighbors,
friends reminding us to breathe,
family that we can hold again,
even if at a bit of a distance.
When Prometheus gave us fire,
the true gift was how we gathered,
realizing there’s nothing that matters
more than loving one another
and telling tales over broken bread.
We must remember that
true fires are more than a place
where we come together—
those tiny, flickering flames
also glow within us,
keeping us warm in this,
our generation’s longest night.
Elayna Musings 