By Tony DeLorger © 2014
A mind wanders,
the flames of the fire a narcotic,
lulling thoughts into a numb haze,
each lick, each crackle, sending you deeper,
and I, melded into my armchair,
gaze blankly into its heart,
the colours, the nuances of its yearning flames,
Shadows dance with abandon,
the walls of the room like a forest night,
moon-drenched and alive with movement,
and I sit, frozen in the moment,
my book open and pleading,
one page upright,
flagging thoughts returned,
in the silence of the fire court.
Light flashes in time,
the flames leading a symphony,
driving the rise and fall of movement and sound,
and a log slips forward,
the hiss and crackle as embers swirl upward,
and the crescendo approaches,
consumed wood falling in surrender,
a maelstrom of embers and pale blue smoke
spiralling up into the flew.
The heart is now radiating life,
intense reds and oranges infusing charcoal remains,
with iridescent blue moments,
and I remain lost, completely under its spell,
as time falls from consciousness,
and windows bleed droplet streams,
as outside the frost encrusts still life,
in the clutches of winters icy breath.
And beside me my feline brother rests,
curled up in a ball, lost in dreams,
content in this timeless moment by the fire.
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