Once set and lit a fire is free,
it burns however it wishes untamed,
the defiance of steel blue
sedition of callous green,
the delinquency of sharp orange
and the assassin’s tongue red,
the flames writhe tortured
in their wanton destructive spectrum.
A wind might seek to move its will
to bear its heart a certain path
but the fire’s business of burning,
of charring, gnawing and consuming
is its own, unchallenged.
A fire’s life is short
a one-way battle to ash, where
death is inevitable,
a long, degraded death.
Be sure that life
rekindled from the embers
will be a new fire
not a reincarnation of the old
© Graham Sherwood 05/2019