ephemeral shovels, anti-cinders,
quick to plumb startled irises,
no aspect of the darkness flees.
spears of solar cleanse tarry wells
to impel a gaze so high,
above the truculence of roots,
above grey shamble-mumblings,
an incessant trickle through leaves;
a flutter of springboards;
hovers of the coruscant; serene
and yet hope climbs onward still.
joyous the erratic, radiant ladder.