what a privilege it is
to celebrate with fireworks.

to hear thundering booms fill the air
and not simultaneously be full of fear.

to have the sky painted
with vibrant dazzling colours -
not the grounds stained
with new shades of red.

to hear the calming whistle
and anticipate a euphony -
not a cacophony of
cracks, bangs, screams and cries.

what a privilege it is
to have never heard the latter.

what a privilege it is
to associate explosion
with new beginnings -
not an impending end.

what a privilege it is
to celebrate with fireworks.