The embers of the fragile night

Gone when the last gray leaf

touches the ground

Truth begotten from thought

And taking the meaning for all its worth-

Shadowy embers continue their fall

Into the night of a thousand white moons

Plummeting their colorless noise

to the creatures below

that slowly raise their arms

in solemn recognition of the gift bestowed

They begin to grow

Not in stature, but all in mind

As radiation seeps and grasps

Every living thing

knowledge is born that night

Into the cold evening

of a thousand beautiful moons

And the beauty rests

Cast upon the earth

As the lonely light of a single candle

Makes every shadow dance…

RyanDavid Burningham