I put my heart in the fire and Fire spoke to me, of days of blazing glory, leveling forests and cities, memories from burning log cabins, and barns full of hay. Fire noted my dismay.
Cherished were reflections on man\'s ability to cook meat over eating it raw, to provide the luxury of warmth which allowed for exploration to uninhabitable areas without hypothermia. Fire\'s admiration for oxygen was moving as my love for woman. Much of the conversation was enhanced by pictorial displays from shades of red on a canvas of smoke.
We spoke of birth– with Earth, Air and Water, the first day Fire met God, God his Father, free will or accepting the Creator\'s advice, versus that of the Devil, a throw of the dice. We labored on candles snuffed out one day– and dying embers, dead Vikings floating away in ships of burning timbers, all things to ash reduced by flame and the souls release from whence it came. There was much talk of pyres at which point the eyes of Fire lit alive and danced with pleasure, licking my body, hunting for treasure, searing it for good measure, flames of unabashed desire. Yes we spoke much of Ash and Pyre.
Augustus / Folsom, LA / January 2017