Sparks*
The alpine willow’s fire
burns close to the ground.
Come autumn,
as each blade burns hotter,
a catkin rises
like a plume of smoke
or a white flag.
Come closer.
Like you, every cell
still hums
from root
to flaming tip,
each a vibrant expression
of the whole.
We have each known a wintry night
or a darkness without stars,
but this —
this lone shoot is the opposite of
surrender.
It holds the creation of
a collective,
seeds
that will burn as
millions of prayers,
carrying us forward
like sparks,
like lighthouses,
like the stars
that were there
all along.
*Dedicated to those of us who have felt physically powerless and/or unsafe in the presence of another human.
bearbones 
thnx tricia
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Thank YOU jb
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Tricia, Thank you for writing this astonishing poem! What a declaration that real change happens steadily, often quietly, yet born of the one true flame inside, the flame that heals and unites us all. This is moving and connects me to the collective “that will burn as / millions of prayers” at a time it’s most needed. Big thanks and love.
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Thank you, Rebecca. Big love back to you!
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