Musings

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Gravel roads pass slowly beneath earth caked tires as beams dance amongst passing souls aged within the quiet back country. A soft blanket of wool blots the holes in the heavens. Hush passing between two flames as they flicker on into the dark. One hangs heavy as atlas does, bearing the load of both themselves and all souls who gravitate too close. The other flickers unhindered as the crackles pass between. What is it that stokes the fire who burns only to warm those around it, not caring to cause the spark that fuels it’s existence. The other climbs high to lick the sweetness of new kindling, not to create warmth, but to build itself into a roaring force in which it may consume the tender woodland that seems a mere cage. Why bring them so close when one draws away, fearful of no longer sharing its essence to those whom huddle for life, yet takes no effort to feed it. Why now bring a candle to lay next to a wildfire, if it may not be consumed.

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