It Starts with a Spark

Lindasusan Ulrich

A quick flash that makes you doubt your senses—
But then a tiny ember glows on the braided twine
And brings a flame to life.

Soon you find a candle sitting on a table,
Desolate until its wick touches yours,
And suddenly the brightness doubles;
In an instant the warmth has grown.

This intensified glow draws others like a beacon:
Five, ten, fifty, hundreds maybe—
Not moths bent on self-destruction
But fellow travelers seeking the road ahead.

The people begin to move forward.
No matter how far the line stretches,
No one is left to fend for themselves.
Everyone makes progress or no one does.

In the distance, bands of other beacons now beckon,
Proof of other sparks that became blazes.
The air crackles with anticipation
As everyone approaches the center.

There, the scales are balanced.
There, the broken are healed.
Now, you know what it means to be love.
Now, you know how to illuminate the sky.

A blurry array of pinpoint lights moves out toward the viewer.