We endure the ups and downs within opposing forces, which pull and push our every word and experience. The scream cuts the chaos into stillness.

 An Outcry Within

Cry out
In sorrow.
Dream high
From low,

Celestial grace
Within the rainbow

Aurora rising
Upon night fall.
I Am
Afraid to Be

Now blindly
I see Ecclesiastes.
Echoes of the past:

Nothing is new
Under this old
Scorching Sun.

Meaningless meaning.
For nothing is real
Except Nothingness.

Ciera S. Louise, June 28, 2008