Making sense of senselessness?

Question

Resentments, like embers

In a leaf pile waiting

For the breeze of rancour

To fan them to hot life.

Climbing, grasping and roaring

To suck the air of oxygen

To feed destruction

And choking bitterrness

Until the sad, soft tears

Of pain, regret, anger

Leave only ashes, black, smoking

Where once was beauty

But, from the waste,

When the heat has gone

A bud, greening,

Reaches for the sun.

Hoping.

Answer 1

This is a lovely poem-- and yes, after all is over and done, and we have vented, hated, got it off of our chest-- we must move on in hope.  Keep on writing-- great work-- Toni D. (a senior lady)