The Fault In Our Ways

Tragedy strikes those who keep watch for
the gleaming promise of light to slip through the cracks of
a splintered sky that shrouds our worlds to the absence of such honor
like lightning
that we never truly hear
Because this junction splits the mind
with the splendid discharge of memories that we can find
at that momentary admonition of being,
like a vanishing,
or a reanimation, that branches into time or roots into the fears
of what un-defined our wrath.
We look above for the next celestial whisper
in hopes of discovering what once was the faith
that designed the precipice that bears our burdens
Because it is now staring back at us with another promise
ferried through the blue expanse of tomorrow.
Our fingers glide in a parallel entanglement
until we decide to breach the counterglow.