Smoke, Ashes, and Fireproof Spirits

burn bright

It was midnight.
Fifty firetrucks tried
to save a lifetime’s worth
of tremendous love,
but they could not.


 No, grieve.
The wailing sirens understand.
Our cherished past
is now only dust.

When we return
to see what remains of the ruins,
may we breathe back
all that we lost in the flames–
every trace of a dream,
and every proof of courage
in our course of becoming.

From smoke and ashes
will rise fireproof spirits.
We will write again.
We will dance again.
We will make history again.


This was written in loving memory of my home for four years,
that made me realize that yes, to the very end, I want to be an artist.

Please help us rebuild the halls and walls that make dreams happen.
Check out for more details.