On The Eve of Apocalypse

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On The Eve of Apocalypse

As the world comes crashing down

a gentle light breaks through

and the shattered pieces in a falling sky

give way to warm, comforting rays of sun

heavenly halos radiate

permeating the industrial grays of personal apocalypse

then the end becomes the beginning

and the viciousness of cyclical infinity dissipates

so the calm drifts in

a rolling fog blending with the heat of the light

and so enveloping the ruins

a soothing haze to blur inadequacy and dull panic

chaos, confusion, and fear are buried in the rubble of revolution

only to be reborn:

creativity, inspiration and hope surge—

tsunamis of renaissance

        breaking against the collective psyches

overpowering and consuming

to create opportunities where there had once been—

—desperation

and resilience is no longer the figment of fables

nor courage the illusion of dreams

for when all the sky has fallen

and the world down around with it

tenuous dust will have settled into softness

leaving the sun alone,

a dawn brighter than it has ever been.

 

©2010 Ami Lovelace

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Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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