Ever watched a flame in a candle? It seems almost…..fragile. As if any small misplaced breath could snuff it out. You fear that each exhale will end it. But it doesn’t. You blow, but all you accomplish is making that small flame dance. It takes a precise breath, dragged from your lungs and aimed at that flame to snuff it out. But still, it does not go easily. It leaves behind its essence to resonate in the smoky trail left floating, and in the charred area where it once stood. It won’t be forgotten.
Little flame, dancing in a hurricane
The found weight of a frozen fate
it means nothing
Hunter winds and thunder calls
they keep coming
Secret dreams, begging for a safe abode
Tiny heart, with burdened weight
Take a breath, of gentle air
Light the fire, and listen close. Are you ready? Then let’s go.
If only my words could flow as freely
as the breeze that passed me by
This night that fairy tales were born in
spoke so truly in its silence
With its passages of star-dust
and a wind stirred by the will of God
Who am I to bring my language
and try to translate all these phrases
That have been written in the secrets of the stars
I am a speck in the eye of giants
Wondering with awe in the silence of the night
Picture this. A hearth, blackened with use. A flame, looking almost silken, licking at the logs. Close your eyes and smell the sweet aroma of the smoke rising through the chimney. Listen to the crackling of the flames as they consume the wooden logs. And there you sit, upon the corner chair, ready to let your mind go. To journey with me wherever these words will take us. Take a deep breath, we’ll soon take flight.