Illuminated, 
as they are want to be, 
From behind a smile and beneath the moonlight - childlike and full wide open – 
There are sparks within them.
 
If, 
in the afterglow of a hearth fire, we lend fuel to the embers, 
will it not rage once more?
Can an emotion, 
long buried beneath the sands of time, and the ashes of yesterday’s fire,
be rediscovered and brought into the moonlight, 
back to life, 
just as vibrant as before?
Can the roar of such a flame be hidden in the soft glow within the full moon circle?
The lover’s feel the gravity of the moment,
Staring deep into one another’s eyes there is little else that is certain except that
There are sparks within them.

They step into the circle, 
hand in hand, 
The full moon has reached her momentary pause,
Reaching for that fullness which invites them.
Long since buried beneath those sands of time,
And rising from the ashes, These roots run deep
Stretching out branches to the night sky.
They,
and those cherry trees 
are gazing upward.
Their eyes reflecting the distant stars which creates 
the illusion that
There are sparks within them.

There is a subtle pause, 
almost unperceivable,
Between the waxing and the waning,
Just before she starts on her journey back 
In the darkness.
Reminiscent of every momentary lapse that has ever been.
Suspended, 
long enough for a kiss 
– just long enough
For a nostalgic sigh 
while looking into the eyes 
of a love lost
to time, 
and revealing that indeed,
There are sparks within them.