Thank you all for those ideas. God, I don't know what I'd do without you guys giving those motivating comments. This poem came to me when I was listening to a conversation between two people putting wood on a campfire. If I do say so myself, this piece is just as deep, but a little bit more hopeful. Tell me what you think!
The Hurt and The Healing
How's the fire going?
They ask.
Is it burning?
Is it blazing?
Is it filling the air
with torn-up pieces of paper,
drifting on the icy wind?
No, you answer.
The wood is still
too young, too vulnerable.
Chopped to bits
just last summer,
without time to dry,
to breath.
So much smoke,
so little flame.
Too much air to fill,
with no substance
in which to feel.
Come back soon,
you say.
Wait a little.
Think a little.
Watch the wood
dry in the sun,
catch its breath.
Give it some time,
you say.
And soon one shall see
the flame leap eagerly
onto the log's
hardened skin.
Witness its acceptance,
its rebirth.
Give life time,
give it hope.
Hope,
they repeat.
And shake their heads
at your ignorance,
your stupidity.
They get in their car
and drive away.
Leaving you
smiling and nodding,
as you wait
for the wood
to burn.
Peace, love, and happiness
-Becca
