Light it up

I've been thinking about fire for a minute, maybe since the first time I relit my own. I give you two gentle-ish poems today. I hope they keep you warm.

The Embers are Mine

The embers are mine
In the oft interrupted
Lone conversations
Where dreams take shape
And patience takes hold.

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Up Rising

Ask me the difficult questions.

I want to squirm in the silence,
let it invade.

Slow.

down.

the thoughts.

Inhale. New air.
Exhale. Feed my embers,
let the smoke 
billow out my mouth
a wordless warning…

This up rising flame —
it’s vulnerable sways and licks
will burn your feet 
(Should you stomp it out?)
or warm your toes.

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