by Aisha North • Bente Amundsen
The end of an era.
An old world collapses
in a smoldering fire
of dreams gone awry.
But out of the ashes
new life arises.
The scorched earth supplying
a feast yet to be seen.
For the death and the birth
are closely related.
Like a newborn arriving
through the loins of the old.
We grieve for the old, for we see not the new.
But behold, it is here
in a shape yet undefined.
Our hearts feel the presence.
The outline of greatness.
Breathe in and rejoice.
Unto us it is born.
