Sparks and Embers

I love fire.

It’s so much more than what people label it.

It means so much more.

It is warmth and safety and fierce protector.

It means healing and comfort.

It’s passion in its purest form.

And it’s beautiful.
I love the snap of a spark

The hiss as it comes to life

The crackle of contentedness

The heavy breaths as it fights the wind

And the soft sigh as it dies.

My thumbs have become rough and calloused from how many times I’ve spun the wheel and held the lever

Igniting the air.

I couldn’t count how many times I’ve clicked it

Just enough to see the sparks fly and flash.

Like lightning.

It was the difference between life and death.

It can be used for destruction

But it can bring life too.

I watch it dance

Reaching for the sky

Stretching

Throwing embers into the air.

I carry it wherever I go.

A lighter

A single flick

And there it is

In all its beauty

However small that might be.

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