Fire dances, fire leaps, fire heats, fire burns.
Fire consumes, purifying the precious and polishing the impenetrable.
Fire creates light.
It is dangerous and glorious and mesmerizing. It burns with fearful beauty and passion, unconcerned about anything other than acquiring fuel so that it may rage on as it devours the devour-able, refines the eternal.
When I was a little kid my friends and I liked to poke sticks into fire pits and bonfires, watching the hot glow of the embers and the leaping of the flames as we tried to ignite our own personal torches.
“People who play with fire wet the bed,” the adults always said. What a funny old wives’ tale.
Fire is powerful, the transformer of landscapes and souls and inward and outward realities. And if fire could have a voice, if it could express itself in words, I have to wonder if it would whisper…
…I was made for this.