I watch a flank of fleeting birds speed
until they become only bites of dust in
the spread of December blue.
Creatures drifting like meandering memories:
that after dark comes the zephyr of light
and with it I shall go and travel the skies.
In the farplane there may lay one boy dead,
but given back to life is a man instead.
For through the deepest fires of hell I tread
and now to the wonder, to the unknown:
life is a trial I will overcome.