an ember on a pile of burnt coals
can’t help but feel engulfed by darkness

if only it could adopt the perspective
of the fingers, frozen, nearby -
resting on the bones of a ribcage
of an icy body; akin to its own
that it would see its reality with clarity

for those people:
that ember is
hope in the face of an empty matchbox;  
it will keep them warm.
that ember is
a promise of light.

just as it did before
it will burn bright once more
and not only will it shine
but it will burn through the darkness
for all those other broken coals