I tripped over her memory yesterday. Poem, by Lathen Griffiths, at My poetic side

I tripped over her memory yesterday.

I’d tucked it away beside the fireplace

where I used to sit as a child,

and there, while the adults poured tea and conversation flowed,

I would stare into the fiery abyss,

and watch the flames turn black rock, that had been a million years in the making,

into dust in no time at all.

Fire I realised from that early age was the ultimate alchemist,

unapologetically devouring with no emotion or concern

yet changing what it destroyed into warmth, light and magic,

creating a space where people wanted to gather,

catch up and honour the euphoria of firelight and family.

Still that fire glows within my memory

setting a spark to my thoughts and my soul.

It enables me to remember her;

She, the fire maker,

who had kept the flames burning through many winters

keeping her family warm

and setting a spark flickering in a child’s heart that would last a lifetime.

I tripped over her memory yesterday

and it made me smile.

Lathen Griffiths

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