Fire

The fire burns,
angry,
high,
consuming, and yet
it is not a thing of fear,

but a light giver,
a bringer of warmth,
on a cold winter’s night.

Never under control,
I trust it’s power and truth.
I trust it’s dance
and fear not the shadows
that lie beyond it’s light.

About this Poem

When life is dark and unpredictable (and when isn’t it?). All that’s left is a choice between faith and fear.

My son took the picture. This has been a year of pain and testing. My bible reading today included Moses and the burning bush. And out of all that, this poem.

Tom