Smoke, haze, fog, ash
These are what blanket the city, pushing
out the gentle dew that should comfort
land in the morning dawn.
What will become of us?
The clear blue of sky of certainty
That lent itself to far visibility
Is now a murky uncertainty
That robs a city of clarity…
What will become of us?
What we thought we knew is now
unknown in charred landscape, lost
homes and displaced families…
The dreams of a city gone up in smoke…
but wait…
My eyes see one thing but my heart feels another…
but wait…
My eyes see one thing but my ears hear another…
Yes, it is a city responding with hope, love, sacrifice and generosity
Not spewing blame or animosity
But a resilience and determination forged in unity
The haze is not a dreaded uncertainty…
No,
It is a glorious opportunity
The opportunity of the glorious unknown
We will rebuild in sacrifice and generosity
We will rebuild in hope, love, and unity
We will rebuild to cultivate and birth the wildest dreams of our city
Behold, in the midst of calamity a new thing is birthing,
Can we perceive it?
What will become of us?
We will seize this glorious opportunity to see
Our city thrive in excellence, beauty, and prosperity
That is what will become of us!
bryanrheem 