This Brief Unity

By Carl-Johan Mellin 


To know that in the darkness of that winter night

a billion people sleep, is comforting to me.

In houses warm they dream, in buzzing vibrancy.

But when I see the first flakes fall, the numbers fade.


It is a sight to see the streams, the rivulets

that form when wind caresses all those beds of white,

on frosted roofs that hope this winter comes in peace.

To watch the streetlights flicker, fight to not give in.


To think that all this darkness used to be a void.

To think of crumbled houses, all the withered streets,

of how this ravaged land would start to breathe again,

then watch in peace as seasons pass a thousand times.