A SMALL EPIPHANY
I found the children
weeping
as I lay my fingers
upon the pages
of time.
I took their faces
and quietly placed them
upon my palm;
open,
Waiting
'til their smiles
became the hope
of a world... crying.
Desolation is a friend of mine.
Hope lives upstairs.
We share our meals at sundown
in the grand café
of freedom.
We sit at the table of history.
Know that life is very sad... and
yet so sublime.