There is no electricity in sorrow.
Tears sting for strange reasons but they do not spark.
Melancholy lacks the sharp snap of a simple smile.
Anger holds a magnetism, even a power,
But give me the lightning whip of laughter
That rouses imagination and browbeats reluctance into joy.
If fire resides in the soul
Then energy must surge within every content heart.
Sometimes my resolve slides beneath the waves
And slumbers in the night of knives steeled with regret.
But tonight, I am a bird riding the winds
Following the new crackle of a spring storm.