REFLECTIONS

FIRE Writing 6

all is energy, light

Fire causes changes as an agent of unstoppable renewal.

Fire, I also am; feeding on consuming what I encounter.

For better or worse? Nothing's the same after I touch it.

So I am touched by others. Fire does not stop with me.

Yesterday's burning precedes fires affecting me today.

Fire energizes existence. It will keep living forever alive.

Fire is the light by which it stays happily aware of itself.

-- One Holy, can I be light and fire, otherwise I am nothing.

-- Otherwise I'm dark, dead, dangerous, ungracious, empty.

-- On earth, fires can destroy. Not so in happy Real Reality.


Farewell to earth:

When my body gets cold, I'm old; I served my purpose.

When illness colors my fate, I fade. I become a goner.

Yet with my last cough, I will be off to feistier places.

My body will unite, I delight, with where it came from.

What we shared a while, I smile, I fondly remember.

Entering a new youth is a truth that finds me singing.


Fire is spirit. Spirit is fire. Fire takes sacrifices. Sacrifices feed fire.

Fire spews the word. The word becomes fire. I am a word spoken.

Take energy and moves, sunlight or stars twinkling, moon or day;

take heat and power on the go: it says the I AM being mirrored.


Our sun, our symbol. Our sun, our source.

Our sun, our tomorrow; our sun, our force.

The sun rules us; the sun daily warms us.

The sun transforms us. No sun means, no us.

Our planet's external is completely dependent on the sun.

Its gas-like substance is our human cosmos' physical center.

It occurs solely to feed humanity's free choice experiment.

It also can symbolize the universe's magma of love and life.


It's not Your will to wield hellish flames that consume us and cause havoc,

that scorch what is good, burning on all levels, hurting, seeking to devour.

Those who stole it from You and stoke the inferno, do they really enjoy it?


The artist, proudly, caresses his/her work: a child gets angry and kicks it.

Workers invest their future in their job: the owners declare bankruptcy.

She would die for him out of love: he enjoyed the good times and leaves.

The wedding was beautiful, sincere: soon the marriage became a prison.

Families pray to God and pay taxes: their government, elsewhere, kills.

My anger flares when I'm not pleased: why should I stop, as I am right?

Where's the control switch to let energy not destroy, but let it build up?

The bad news is that this planet will not really improve.

The good news is that what it illustrates, is once for all.


holocaust

In front of the fireplace I daydream about what personally I didn't suffer.

Yet the heat of their pain burns so deep in me. I cannot reach it to cool it.

I think about the train, the cattle train with people, doors hermetically closed.

Under a vile sky it rolls to darkness on the devil's schedule.

Did they feel what I pray they didn't? Did they think what I pray they didn't?

Could their mind throw their passion, I pray, in this one direction:

that it ignites in other people the will to start carrying their torch?

Fingers - at home playing the piano - conducted the selections.

They pointed, they selected, they safeguarded efficient oven use.

Did the victims somehow, on some level, refuse to accept this as their end?

All that exists is an energy, is made of light, of spirit, of power.

At a point in time, they chose to be born on this godforsaken planet.

I pray that they didn't forget to pack some of their own eternal fire.

Fire has been appropriated, stolen. It is used to forge cold steel.

Blatantly, this planet shows the hellishness of human behavior:

A train, ovens, the pointing finger of the hand playing the piano at home.

It burns in me, on a mysterious depth. Is it just because I am part of life?

When life is branded, love violated, does the pain also register in me?

Or do I conceal the scalding truth that in my heart I nurture a Nazi?

I daydream about a past with that face of horror that I learned about.

Yet it stares at me from all human times, from wherever humans have lived.

The train keeps rolling. I am in its doomed wagon.

I am also sitting in the train's driver's seat.

You taught me, loving God, to not dwell on my sorrows.

You also said not to make those of others mine.

You taught me to not deny the urging's of my own darkness.

They are inherent to our earthly human race.

You feel firsthand, through us, how fire, perverted, hurts.

You tell me to hold on!