Cold night, no light,
Gathering of fire’s potential light begins,
Searching for tender twigs that fuel fire’s first light,
Warmth is finally felt.
Flames reach upward within its fragile flicker,
Small and tender,
Sheltered hands culture the flame’s shinning light,
So bright to the contrasting dark night.
Flames now burn brightly,
Toward the starry night,
Warmth abounds, nothing takes flight.
Frequent attention continues to fuel fire’s golden light.
As the world hales to every Earthly need, the fire begins to pale,
Twigs that fueled the fire become scarce.
Flames that reached the sky now burn less bright.
Warmth yields to the cold night.
Fire’s light now nearly quenched by the slightest breeze,
Almost yielding to the cold light-less night.
Once bold and bright, now yields little light.
With renewed placement of life’s giving light.
The fire now burns bright again.
Lessons learned keeps the flames burning warm and bright.
