The Language of Fire

As this day ends and before I sleep I will go to the fire I have burning in the other room And switch off the light I crouch down before it The heat seems to wash me clean The fire energises me, drawing me Into the moment Golden flameheads spiral into the higher Spaces nearer the flue And sparks of vivid copper and orange burst Against the hot thermal screen I am captivated by its mesmorising Elemental beauty It seems to have a language all of its own And a deeply mysterious Complex intelligence Reminding me of the Sun in high bloom Perhaps all fires speak to us each time They burn?

And we keep missing it We fail to decipher their nameless music Because they communicate a higher knowledge To a lower field of density All we know is how to control a fire physically How to exploit and to manipulate it To capture some of its essence But not a single mote of its alchemy No matter It just seems the right thing to do To stand here waiting To be rooted in the present To have somehow activated a circuit Simply by just being here By just standing in my own truth And to have opened to a larger part of myself Towards the fire that burns endlessly Within us all That simple, unfailing, glowing enormity We all must feel When a thing of long yearning Finally gets the opportunity

To shine and come through

Mike Davies 17 December, 2010 For more like this please visit:

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