Tag: fire

  • Ablaze.

    Ablaze.

    That night in the deep, dark
    woods, she woke up in her tent,
    aroused by the heat.

    She unzipped and stepped outside,
    finding herself surrounded –
    Ablaze – the trees were
    like a circle of hell
    from the soil to the sky,
    nowhere for her to find solace except
    looking upward to the deep
    navy sky.

    “Run.”
    Gulping the steaming hot air,
    she sprinted through the flames —
    with open arms and palms and face still to the sky —

    she burst out the other side:

    gold stardust surrounded by midnight,
    reformed and dancing with the fireflies.
    Casting new shapes and shadows against
    the cool, damp ground.

    Contained in the blaze,
    she’d rushed through the flames and
    emerged, glittering and brand new.
    Cleansed.
    Courage numbing her as she shed her
    old skin, which crumbled and dusted in ashes
    beneath her gilded
    footsteps.

    “Ablaze.” – bem

  • The flame.

    The flame.

    The flame.

    Oxygen fans flames
    to keep them alive
    like souls in bodies.

    Breathing in –
    inhaling,
    dragging, drawing,
    sometimes panting,
    or even gasping –
    to stay alive.

    Then the inevitable
    exhale.
    The contraction of the lungs.
    Release.
    Relief.
    Then expanding once more –
    to stay alive.

    Fanning the flame of the human spirit.
    First the initial spark.
    Then brightening,
    glowing,
    flickering,
    dimming than bursting.
    Oxygen flowing in and out –
    to stay alive.