Millenials

All you bright ones

born to be torrential: 

In the wake of your passing, 

confound the masters;

Make real what they could only dream.

Make noise, 

Disturb equanimity,

Replace what is 

with what could be;

Take words or a brush.

Take music only you can hear:

Remember each sunrise yet to come 

not the moon-fall ending of another age.

© Paul Wittenberger