It entrances

all whose eyes witness it’s sinuous show of blue and gold,

an alluring hold,

which accompanied the ancients in their

wanton dances

and drew

to it’s warmth the village folk with their fearful eyes glistening,

intent on listening,

to the flames crack and roar as the cold

north wind blew.

There’s wonder

about and stories are told of great deeds done by the tribe,

as they imbibe,

wise words giving comfort for what’s been

torn asunder,

and old songs

are sung with familiar sounds and words leaving mist in the air,

as they stare,

letting the fire cleanse their hearts and right

all their wrongs.

As a new dawn

approaches only embers remain resolute in the dying fire,

folk finally tire,

knowing that through the conjured flames the Tribe has been


3 thoughts on “THE FIRE

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