Something shiny and hopeful for your enjoyment today.

Cinders bloom across the sky
Echoes of time that flare and die.
Shining bright against the stars
Calling back all that’s ours.

Sing the stars a welcome song.
Let the fire echo along.
Lift up hands to days begun,
Then turn to labors that most be done.

No work is vain that lifts the soul.
No simple task that makes us whole.
Though weary body and heavy breast
Find the distance left a heavy test.

Still every day we work anew
And do what little we can do.
Yet we find when work is done
So much that is we have begun.

So light a spark within the sky.
Let it burn, though it will die.
The future comes on tiny wings
Made of ten thousand daily things.

Sparks of the Future copyright © Heather Strickler 2026 all rights reserved