Collide

No worlds collide;

but some beacon

on some distant shore

throws flickering lights.

The shore is rocky and relentless;

and mine is just a boat

lost in the choppy tides

of restless time.

Sometimes, barely, I can on the horizon,

see a silent trail of smoke,

where the fire singed and scourged....

and ponder, why yet the embers burn
and what of the ashes?

Then again, we live

by these distant lights by night

and the spirals of smoke by day...

and keep on preserving

these small hours!