Puff

So tiny, fragile even if it's big.
Displaying the cold world
And our lack to live in it for long.
Bundled, warm, until we open our
Mouths in song, in calling through
The lonely, desolate landscape.
Sometimes beauty is in what is
Most fragile, precious, see it come,
Hear it go on the wind, be yourself
More open to being broken, so
We too may know the weakness
Is beauty unleashed from the inside.