hope stained constellations.

shine-bright-shimmer,
a sharp cut of light ricocheting
off chandeliers of crystal ice,
we follow its warning,
shards of frosted ink
scrawled across the sky,
foreboding written out
in this holy silence
telling of how darkness still lingers
in the hallows from where we came
hope is fleeting,
but we will not turn back
the stars are our lighthouse,
and they will bring us through
– Ashley Jane