Tonight hear the roar of the fire. Not a fire.
Not the mindless flames of local fame.
Not the blank borrowed stares
from a burned-down warehouse.
Hear the sizzle of the fire
that has eyes and teeth;
hear the fire that is within me.
This same fire sent angels to their knees.
This fire rages in my heart
occasionally,
yet mostly sleeps.
A fitful dream-ridden shimmer
of smoke and shadow.
The cold rain of an early winter
reaches me, touches me.
For just a moment I feel the fire
flare then simmer.
I can see more clearly as the light grows dimmer.
And this, autumn's first day, rains down in sheets of gray
that would chill others to the bone;
yet, to me it feels more like home.
The silent searing of my soul slows, then ceases.
The sparks that had invited conflagration are lost in the dark.
I know I have a promise to keep to the woman I love.
I know this rain can fill an ocean deep.
Wind whistles anxiously above
through wet branches, whispering.
She knows me. I know her;
And I know that soon, I will sleep.
9.22.1997
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