Such a familiar word upon a page or in conversation.
One that speaks of embracing change and finding resolve.
But rarely is the collapse spoken of that must precede the reformation.
It’s not until one experiences a fall that change takes root and life grows.
All around us the earth trembles, fires rage, winds ravage, and seas rise.
The very air we breathe is filled with uncertainty for our future.
But hope springs eternal even among these darkest hours.
Front torn open soil and cleared away broken trunks rise buds of green.
Even in the most heavily torched forests and smoldering pines sprouts a carpet of newly freed things.
Waters recede and a Phoenix of verdancy is reborn.
Why not, if we are part of this world, should we not be as well?
Such a familiar word upon this screen and within our minds.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.