I have to believe
there is meaning behind
this life,
and why it all comes
crashing down sometimes,
a tsunami against
sandstone,
dreams that weren't meant
to be, shaping what
we were meant to be but
never dreamed,
like the first seedling on
a nursery log,
the way morels grow
after forest fires,
a planet and a sun born
in the aftermath of
another dying star,

light reaching closed eyes,
by which time it is soft enough
to ignite
something deep within
your heart knocked down by tsunamis
time and time again.

Broken dreams mean less
to supernovas
of which we are born.
Dying stars mean less
to sandstone shaped by tsunamis
which witnessed the end of dinosaurs.

Sunlight reaching soft closed eyes in
the aftermath of forest fires, reaching
seedlings on a fallen log
mean more.