Actually a Sestina

It’s supernatural, the fire of the lightning

in the silver dusty dusk;

the spark of creativity, the spark of liberation,

the spark of the hopeful cries:

Today is the day for make believe,

today is the day for pursuing

 

everything you’ve been afraid to pursue;

to face your fear of touching the lightning.

Gently, the ageless day makes you a believer,

as you cry out to this dusk.

Today won’t be marked with lost hope, you cry,

today will find your liberation.

 

Yet someday was found in your liberation,

and it is a someday impossible to pursue.

Give it a glance, just give it a try, you cry

to the sky filled with lightning.

As lightning proves to mark the restless dusk,

it was only what you wanted to believe.

 

As it was never so easy, or maybe so hard, believing

in miracles, in hope, or in liberation.

Miracles surrounded you, then left you abandoned in dusk.

The bright light of Mars, light of the moon, left you to pursue

the source of all this lightning -

but the source, it only left you crying

 

in the dark, the supernatural made you cry

to the fates of the mighty, it made you believe

in the darker of minds, in the brighter of lightning,

in the smoky shadows, the signs of liberation.

So with this word, this is what never gave up on you; the pursuit

of brightness, the pursuit to abandon the dusk.

 

It marked in your mind the falling of the dusk,

it marked in your mind the crying

of shadows, of starlight, and of pursuit,

it marked in your mind the state of believing.

And this proved to be your liberation,

the victory in the sky �" your very own lightning.

It turned out the dusk was what made you believe,

the cries were always worth your liberation:

Liberation, the pursuit of the lightning.