Light that falls like dust.
Blown into particles of brilliant colors,
to show the beating of our booming hearts.
Like magic they sprinkle the world
with beauty and hope.
It's as if for one night the stars themselves
bring forth the wonders of our universe for
  only a few passing moments.
I stare at them as they burn their mark of memory,
and ponder the irony.
That something so virtuous could be used
  so violently.
That greed, distrust, and continuous fuss,
could one day leave this world in a crater of dust.
Danger!   Keep out of hands of children.
Yet children we are.  All of us.