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© 2012 Steve King
All rights reserved
Well—
this fire begot something
to trim the leavings of the night:
ancient spirits in the smoke;
rekindled hope speaks from each tongue of flame;
ember upon ember,
old inclinations leap to light,
then sift their
ashes through my heart again.
I know the fire shall shortly die,
just as all regret is said to wane.
I taste these ashes one more time,
and know there is no reason to complain.
A taste of ashes may remain,
but no one ever need explain;
I would relive it all the same,
and take no moment to complain |
Survivors
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
The Fire
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Yeah waste not what not
ReplyDeleteNo matter how hot
As things could get dire
Outside the fire
smiles...i am glad even in the ash there is no regret, no reason to complain and a willingness to di it all again...you did some neat stuff with structure in this as well....the tasting of the ashes is a very cool touch...
ReplyDeleteLoved the image of trimming the leavings of the night--and even a transitory flicker of flame seems warming here, with a meal of carpe diem leavened with hope.
ReplyDeleteThe eternal comfort and pique of the flame...even the structure here is creative....A column of words that look a little like the shimmying and licking of the flame. I like the hope and acceptance here. Interesting write.
ReplyDeleteYour opening lines are specially lovely ~
ReplyDeleteI like the grace towards the end, acceptance and moving on ~
i really like this steve, i like how you portray fire as the moment, and ash as the aftermath of moment, the memory, or even the path. very well done my friend.
ReplyDelete"...I would relive it all the same,
ReplyDeleteand waste no moment to complain"
As I read this poem I feel an undercurrent of emotions going on. Perhaps a little sadness, Or maybe just a wistful but honest reflection for things past that will never be again. As always, your writing and word choice is impeccable. A beautiful piece, Steve.
Very nicely written...tasting ash with my eyes...
ReplyDelete