Bright Heaven

the sun is already hot air filled with dense bright rays that hugs our shirts and the trees bloom pink and yellow as the spring captures the city

young skin and hair clasp the pastel streets and sit cross-legged on the grass campuses painted in the loud colors music pouring out of rooms and cars

the world is flung in turmoil that counts itself in perfect images on the screen pain burned into the faces of suffering

but even so if all is tragic or near hell the season surrounds the city in a circle of being, lifting the air and the sky in a rush of bright heaven