Fire
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This is an extremely difficult poem to catoregize. Anyone who has any idea as to how I should sllot this into a definirtive style is welcome to suggest it to me. For now, it goes under Free Verse.
Fire
Faster than light speeds the mare of thought.
The soul's fire, rife with intentions,
Burns with its needs, breathing
When the Spring comes
Sounding the sunrise.
What is useless?
Tell me that if you can.
Do the moon or the trees care
If Man thinks little of them?
Rather they must pity him,
What is he, but a thing of a day?
I spend my life
Overwhelmed by wonder.
The beauty of things
Strikes me dumb.
People are strange;
How they wish to master everything.
Who can chain a Summer breeze?
Who can grasp a fistful of air?
Who dares to shout the fearful words:
"This is Mine." ?
I've learned many things from fire:
Its hiss and crackle have a tale.
Looking in the cracks to see a wall,
Listening to absolute quiet
Strolling through the shade
Like Tom O' Bedlam,
I know the meaning of fire:
But I cannot tell.
Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2021
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