To Familiar Sparks

When my mind was young my heart was old And I’d watch the seasons race the cold With a match I once tickled the sun And burned for it to color me young. Now my mind is old and my heart is young And my mornings chant anthems of heroes unsung Through window cracks, a young ray fingers Sending tickles of a warmth that lingers. Every now and then I still spark a flame I test my limits; I challenge God by name. To old familiar chants, my mind still turns To familiar sparks my heart forever burns.

PoetryHillary Wen