Only a spark is what I need to begin--
Just like a seed so tiny finds its way into the earth
nestling into place--with darkness to embrace
its entire self.
Yet even in darkness and dirt nurturing can come.
When it does a power transforms this seed
into a new creation; a similar relation.
I see myself being like a seed transformed--
But although darkness is all around
it is I who brings the light to show the way--
on chilly days I warm the hearth and cook the food
to nourish those who nourished me.
Yet those who ignite me--taking me from a spark
to a flame,
to a blazing fiery frenzy of power and light--
May not always be those capable of handling my purpose
so right.
Within my own being I am neither right nor wrong--
intend no harm--
powerlessness is among my greatest strengths.
But I must yield to those who nurtured me from a spark
and use me to start
infernos raging and rushing to harm, hurt, or maim--
borne of insane ideas to bring upon themselves a means
to inflame
their weak egos--stealing my power, claiming as their own.
And thus so many talk as if I am such an evil destroyer
of forests and hillsides, or homes and buildings,
people and their materials;
or little white sticks used patiently to suck away
their breathing
leaving them coughing and wheezing,
even as they compulsively relight with the sparks
they always use to sustain this flame;
laying blame on anyone or anything else.
The nurturer continuously becomes the destroyer;
a cycle of nurturing a spark into a living fire.
Losing all control as they aspire to empower
themselves of an element
meant to be respected and used wisely.
Though they steal my power, they cannot steal
my wisdom.
Thus I extinguish my flames on down to embers,
leaving only ashes to remember--
as a small budding flower--for what it’s worth--
struggles to seek more nurturance
among the cold, dark earth.
Theresa M
We pray for the victims of the raging fires: people, animals, nature.
May your spirits be reborn into the Light.
