Coming up the stairs
Beauty catches the last
Glint of sunlight
Highlighting without meaning
That which had been seen

Before.

So different now
From this angle
Unrecognizable

But for that old and new feeling long since
And longed for
Yet rarely seen
This side of sunrise

Sun. Rise.

Was it sunset or sunrise
vowed to no longer be cried through
And yet

Not yet.

Old fears ensnare
Spiderwebs of building hopes
Hope as fragile as the spider
And often much more deadly

So they say.

Apparitions longed for
To bring back what?
Good old days…
Now just old tattered memories
Almost certainly inaccurate then
And but a charred decoration
On a last minute Xmas gift

Just because.

Because it’s been a hard year
And harder still to find that hope
Mingled among debris at the bottom
Of a borrowed shop vac

Hope longed for
But rarely found
Not in this light
Before sunrise

Sun. Rise.

The spider undeterred by life
Imagine that
Building hope right in that place
That hope was sucked from its dimension
Once reality
But instead only heart

All these long years.

And through a broken window
At the top of the stairs
In a new old place
Was a new new memory
Of a smile posed to change

Worlds.

And eyes with the warmth of sunsets
To heal
Hearts maybe, even.

How high can the sun rise
After so many sets backwards
And how many tears can be talked out of
Before they lose all meaning too
And what meaning is needed to feel

What this all means.

At the start of another rise
Another fall
Another climb

Up the stairs.