Glowing embers remain. Flickering as though their very soul is leaving them slowly
whisping away in waves of heat expired.
Shadows creep, wrapping their tendrils around the spirited remains of a fire once proud-
once tall and vivacious
Yet here- hudled in solidarity- confined to ashen dark- are all that have not been given over to the naught.
Perspiring light in auburn hue-
Flashing white and yellow with any that venture too near.
So they linger- fierce - but not immune to entropy's fatal coarse.
Unless we blow- sending the very breath of life into this remnants ranks
unless we feed them pine and oak
As they evangelize with heat wood that is dead
unlocking all the heat hidden within
but they still flutter and fade- impeded
drowned in onyx waves- pressing from all sides
seen and unseen
the theif of the night
So we who breathe, let us whisper
to these huddled orbs of fire true
And listen as they whisper back
Fore we listen to the spirits voice
repeating these whispers back in vigor renewed
So that we do not suppose that heat found us alone
but rather we were found first by those remnants of flames long past
These cherished embers flicker
shrouded in ashen waste
But incline an ear and you will hear
Whispers
So we might whisper back.
Monday, 4 January 2010
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1 comment:
nice post. thanks.
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