I sit by the fire and I wonder,
About everything that’s gone before.
Good and bad, happy or sad,
It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.
I feel the warmth and spread my hands,
My heart pumps gently, my lungs expand.
It feels so good to be alive.
The here, the now, the present calls.
Crackling flames and rising smoke,
Shimmering heat in orange clothes.
Continued wonder that something small
Can be the source of wonders all.
My memories arise, spin, spiral,
Flashes of colour in the flames.
Each one vanishes with the rising
Heat that cleanses, shrivels, claims.
Now I sit here and gently ponder,
The greatest question of them all,
Why I’m sitting next to this fire,
In my home that has no fireplace.