Poetry

Fire

Her soul is a fire,
Her body a hearth,
Her skin,
brown like the earth from whence she came…

She is warmth in the winter,
Burns ruby red in the summer,
Cool in the spring and autumn,
She is life bearer…
At the possibility you’d stare
Regardless of the closest contact
Skin still bare
Free from burns even though her fire flares

So flowers flourish in the midst of doom
Brown to green
Mother earth blooms
Her radiance warm
The world on its knees
Though not in worship
But gracious defeat
Juxtaposed
Her fiery purity
A glimmer so bright
Yet transparent
Clear for souls to see

Her warm aura
Giving chills
To her heavenly chiefency
She burns
Brings increment
Flaming intimacy
She is
Fire.

3 thoughts on “Fire

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