The land knows

what we refuse to learn:


sometimes you must destroy

what has come before to create

new, unsullied things.




There are places my feet have trod

that are gone

never to be loved again.


The fire consumes

slowly, with enough time to flee

yet still relentless in remaking.




The ash like snow, blankets

the black cracked land covering

all that came before.


A goddess shows her children

the wisdom of destruction




The swordfern, the Ohia Lehua take

their first breaths, explore, make

a mission of re-seeding.




What comes next will be better,

and if not?


We burn it down again.


Author: Lynne Sargent

Lynne Sargent is a writer, aerialist, and Ph.D student at the University of Waterloo. She has been published in venues such as Strange Horizons, Twisted Moon Magazine, and Wild Musette, and was a 2018 Rhysling Award Nominee and 2018 Aurora Award Nominee. If you’d like to find out more about her or her work, reach out to her on Twitter @SamLynneS.

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