here we are surrounded by miracles.
we set chase hoping to catch stars.

any time i get close enough,
i squeeze the fireflies mercilessly
between thumb and forefinger,
extinguishing all light.

winter moves in
and my breath is the wind.
the wind delivers a slap,
a cold sting that brings relief,
and then i blow on a spark and flames grow.

rage turns to me and says:
you can't forsake or silence grief,
lie down with it and roll over and over and over again
until you’re dancing
and it becomes part of your hope.

the wind choreographs and
unites glittering diamond flakes into a snow snake that
slithers gracefully
across the yellow spotlight of the moon
on the asphalt stage.

the snake shows its fangs and asks:
can you have faith in what's born when you break open?

light enters
and breath ignites spring.
a shooting star runs down my spine.

when night comes again
i sprout wings
and take flight
dancing and glowing in the dark.