There is a hollow of pureness inside such as light breeze
Unfiltered sunlight shines down upon it drying spring leaves
Burned and consumed like energy freed
Intoxicating fumes which make the blood sing and heart grieve
Filling a point that compassion has seized
Like a point of a needle buried in hay deep
The heart revolves around it and the soul cries complete
Yearns for the space to spread wildfire amongst forest trees
Pierced and uncased spilling on ground conflagration cleaves
A passion like fire spreads and scorches for need
Clearing the path unleashing debris, rages unhindered
Into ravine, which has settled the dirt, a pilgrim in need
The waters flow forth and charters charred bleed
The courses of the river and channels a tribute in streams
Feeding the land after the fire encountered the seas
The only survival a hole in the ground, hope breaths
A little life left to sprout a new planted seed.
Christopher Baird 2011 ©
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