There are those who slip like sunbeams
Through the shades that you’ve drawn down,
Who can rush like sudden air into
Your lungs before you drown.
Those who’ve been the lilting song-bird
In the heart of winter’s chill,
Or the bush of wild berries
As you crest a thorn-choked hill.
They’re the steaming cup of coffee
Given at the midnight guard,
Twinkling light that can turn what was
Only blackness into stars.
There are people who remind us
There is music in the noise,
There is beauty in the broken,
And still light within the void.
There are those who have been laughter
Bursting from a hollow heart,
To bring unexpected comfort
In a world that’s torn apart.
– s. Clark