May 27, 2009 § Leave a comment
Fire tamed at the end of a burning stick, kissed flippantly in familiar disregard.
When we burnt one down, we cared little whether it was more sacred than our souls could worship. Maybe, a human desire to hold the only dangerous discovery, immediately palpable to Man.
Fire in every form, draws out the Megalomaniac. Reptilian fire, slumbering, hissing innocent in moments of physical friction. Gregarious fire, outraged, untamed, born of self in the wild. Domesticated fire, fragile, cajoled to life in palms, pale and vulnerable.
Were we aware of our ceremonial actions, when we passed the burning stick from mouth to mouth? A ring of fire breathers in a ritual binding us, who breathe the fire’s muted song, while it surged through our disintegrating organs. Organs unburdened with the integrity of the soul but victims to its dictum. A transient power over an element mirroring our transient existence in peace.
Burn, we must. And the Wind will echo the Fire song trapped inside the friable shells of our bodies. And Water, she’ll soak the pining Earth, weighed down by our scramble for power… as silver strains escape from our gasping mouths. Outward signs of the sparks murmuring hymns ancient in our illuminated minds.