Mourn in the light.
Not solitary ghosts,
but sparks
congregating
in the vast black
to chase away darkness.
Each light
draws another,
shimmering through water,
blazing off
granite cliffs,
illuminating
a solemn moment.
Even when the sky
burns clear,
the conflagration
draws life to it.
No grief
suffers alone,
but it is met
by all life in kind.
Pure white,
the passage lit.
The great exhale
and the waves
crashing
on some distant shore.
DJR – 2023
