Some Notes For My Being

the transparent thing is left.
the opaque ones continue to strive for light
those which we touched finally surrender
they are contained in a life span.

we are the eyes that see well in darkness
sensitive to the fragments of light
we let sparks arrive and then we let them pass
we do not need much of the glimmer and the simmer
we know our containers too
when we pass away they shall never know what grief is.