should my soul catch fire again
(the embers smolder, glow bright in the darkest hour)
not a wildfire streaking through the fields
up the mountainsides
leaving smoking disaster and ruinous ash

firelight in the darkness
on some distant shore
I am alone
bright burning warmth, like life
like breaking dawn on a winter morning
burning past the gray mist and blanketing fog

I watched the day fade away
the sunset burst into glorious luminescence
sending shafts of golden, amber light
sailing through the deep bank of rain clouds
(and all my weariness burned away)

a rainbow shimmers into existence
arcing against the twilight sky
cascading down into the deep recesses of the canyon below
great flocks of puffy white clouds waft eastward
and ice cold rain fall upon my face
rivulets then gouts of flowing water streaming down the road

still the light glimmers bright
this vision sears itself into my eyes
the soft fall of light rain upon the windowpane
the sound embedded in my heart
and in all the riot of sunbeams refracting and radiating
of storm clouds racing and raindrops falling
there is a quiet stillness
in this gentle, constant motion
and my soul lies tranquil
if only for a moment