Light
A single spark
arcs
in the hush of thought,
braiding
hope into the dark.

Residue
Grey ash settles
on pages never finished,
charred
margins tracing first desires.

Memory
From cinders
of yesterday’s fervour
rise soft echoes
of half-formed melodies.

Message
We shape our breath
into tethered words,
casting lantern-bright
into another’s night.

Light
That echo returns,
igniting fresh wonder—
the spark leaps on.







.