Ember

Mother Earth has carried us all closer to the Sun, once more. I can feel the stare of Ra against my pallid flesh. The heat reflects my disposition. Angry atoms galloping toward one another, fighting for what little room is left in-between sharp breaths and lazy wind. I call to Winter. Embracing the touch of fallen oak leaves against my ankles as I walk toward the echo of their once vibrant sway. The ax swings true. Splitting knots of beautiful growth, destined to burn. Just like me. I watch the fire cradling what was once mighty with purpose and purity with resolute obligation, to consume. I breathe in the smoke and try to will myself into an ember. To just, for a moment- Feel what it’s like to have striven. Become magnificent, and fallen with grace. To have such raw and vivid purpose, even in death. But, nature, it seems, does not work that way. The ember’s truth stings my skin as the Texas sky opens its heart and reminds me Winter is long past. And although I burn, It’s not in the same way. And it never will be. -James Kelley 2019