From the dawn I am kindled by passion,
whirling, swirling, curling into tongues of Fire,
burning, churning, yearning for satisfaction,
blaming, flaming, claiming my soul
until I am consumed.
Many fuels spark that Fire,
unquenchable by any human effort.
Paper ignites, bursting spontaneous and hot:
So Writing devours me, thoughts demand expression,
compelling, swelling, telling all secrets.
Wood embraces the Fire in her heart:
As melodies engulf me, flowing from my fingers,
glowing, growing, sowing rhythms of my spirit.
Coal is coaxed to burn, birthing hot embers:
Computer design unfolds transcendent fascination,
trying, buying, underlying all of my world.
Gasoline spits uninvited destruction:
Anathemas enrage me, poisoning people, places--and me,
soaring, roaring, boring black holes of damnation.
Candles must be lit, firm towers until
a flame melts and shapes the wax:
Relationships ensnare me,
flinging, clinging, bringing love in all its wily forms.
Each Fuel demands more;
Time is too short to attend,
and so the days I spend
hoping, moping, groping for my place.
Death-blanket hovers, covers, smothers the Fire
until it is no more.
--9/10/98