This started out a comment on Les vagues de l'oubli
in hlh_shortcuts. It decided it was a poem instead. A truly amazing story -- atmospheric, disturbing, yet still with wonder and love as well as loss.
A glimpse through lightning: stars and sand
Glass and dust and wind -
A Memory of waves, a quiet hush,
Dark water on a darker shore.
Who saw the falling stars? The burning motes
That ancient were before the land was new?
Whose touch might tether all the sparks,
Air and time and tide;
Remember light when all the darkness holds
Is captive sand within the glass?
Who are the falling stars? The cindered ash
Burnt out, or light and memory?