Butterflies and Hurricanes

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Never again will we be able to say 

something is breathtaking

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It’ll be frowned upon like 

one of those words that age poorly

It’ll be something that loses its meaning

another word turned obsolete by another tragedy 

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After the dust settles

after the smoke dissipates

after the tears dry up

Maybe one day we’ll be sitting in the lap 

of a valley overlooking the mountains

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Maybe surrounded by friends

Maybe around a bonfire

Maybe under a star-studded sky

Maybe we’ll sing a song or two

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Huddled together mourning the loss 

of lost people and the memories they couldn’t make

Maybe the pain will ache us to our bones 

But we’ll let it

We’ll let it because what choice would we have?

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We’ll look at each other’s faces during the golden hour

We’ll smile, we’ll know breathing never always comes easy

It’s a luxury many of us weren’t allowed to have

A concept we never used to think about

Until now…

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Now we inhale fractured dreams

And exhale rekindled hope

Now we know what it means to be alive

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We’ll look at the setting sun 

painting the sky a blazing orange

It’ll take our breath away for a moment

Only a moment

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But we won’t dare say it