You Rarely See The Heat

You rarely see the heat,
perhaps just a slight glow around the furnace door,
a quiet roar of fire
captured.

You rarely see the heat,
reducing everything to elements,
transforming sand into glass,
glass into beauty, fragile and remarkable both.

You rarely see the heat.

About this poem. 

The things that form us and transform us are often made where no one sees, or if they see, they cannot imagine the pain or pressure we live as we become something new.

Or it could be about glass blowing.

The picture was taken at Salem Art Works, in their glassblowing house.

Tom