Each of us holds within
a spark, a remnant, of creation
and are born with the question
of what will become of it.
Will we nurture,
fan, feed , foster it
build it into a great flame
glorious until it falls inward.
Or will we choose to ignore that ember, its insistent discomfort and suffocate with indifference,
bury ever deeper with debris,
drown it in a flood of desires,
until forgotten in our lonliness.
Or will we trample it with explanations, our very stamping sophistry, proudly despairing in our vanity,
triumphant in our bravado,
entering the darkness alone.
Or will we take that spark,
whatever form it takes,
knowing it is not ours alone, but a gift, and join with others
hoping to recreate creation,
letting God’s breath fan
our faint embers together
Into light in a city on a hill
where all those that need warmth in the cold,
light in the darkness,
hope amongst despair
can come and find peace.
As we have been given.