fire

fire

coals sleep in ashy coats
barely breathing
until the log is laid

when the stove door shuts
a roaring wind rises
charred bits turn to sparkler
showering the unsuspecting
wedge of wood
with arcing stars

I like to watch
the big blocks stop fighting
allow the undeniable heat
to loose their internal suns

with a whoosh
they go from tame tan
to fans of blue yellow red green
all at once
consumed, crackling
throwing heat
lignin turned to light
the long tough fibers
collapsing from letting go
the metal box creaking
from trying to contain
energy years in the making
while rain thrums on the roof
hoping to put it all out

one time that was me
trying to tamp down
the urge to say something
but every time I tried to go dark
something still glowed like red hot glass

we’re stars
every one of us
burning inside
to light up the dark