screaming my denial to empty strangers

always seemed to go no place

so i'm trying my hand at listening

in the hopes of better grace

i let them pass, the swirling storms

accept them for what they are

maybe find some beauty in it

just like my smoldering stars

in the silence, i seem to find

what i hope and pray to be

the whims and beginnings, given by god,

of some vague epiphany