Tender, kindling, fuel
Dry grass, sticks and logs.
Combined,
Then set afire.
Suddenly, there’s
Light, heat, and movement.
A whole new world
Is born.
A thing to stand around,
A reason to pull up a log and sit,
Something to stare into,
Reach your hands toward,
And turn your back to.
And always,
The smoke follows beauty.
And then,
A tale is told.
Which leads to another
And another.
Flames come and go
They ebb and flow.
Roaring, crackling.
Simmering, and flickering.
Embers, coals.
Constant change.
So much to see,
A lot to hear.
Things to say.
Stare, think, and gaze.
One fire is never like another,
Except that it is.
And once again,
A great story unfolds.
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