Storm

the old man stirs the fire,
finding eternity in the ashes...
an unknown breeze ruffles the curtains,
as fire enters through the window.

love is a storm, and the aftermath.
stillness, and life in disarray.
so seldom we touch the lightning,
and seldom we kiss the thunder.

and only if we're very lucky,
can we reach and touch a falling star...
feel the intimate warmth of its passing,
knowing that nothing will ever be the same!