The fire crackles,
tongues of flame reaching
high into the night sky,
reaching to capture the
essence of the One who
feeds all flames.
Sparks whirl, grasping,
leaping for joy, celebrating
a temporary life lived in
fullness. Rejoicing, dancing,
sprinkling the darkness
with pinpoints of light.
Flickering flames bathe
the woods nearby, casting
eerie glows on low-reaching
fir trees; on fallen logs whose
souls have flown and rest
now in peace.
Horned owls hoot in syncopated
harmonies joined by a distant
pack of coyotes whose yips rise
and fall with unequaled grace.
A fir branch snaps, splitting the
song’s joyful tunes.
The night has a bite, a sharpness
that penetrates the inner core,
threatens to steal warmth,
warded off by a rising taper of
sparks, resurrecting feeble souls
who yearn for life.
Serenity beckons, calling the flames
to calm, to settle, to dwindle
until only a feeble light survives,
burning into perpetuity,
fueled by the eternal love
of One who feeds all flames.
Words and Thoughts 