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!