Shinsaku Ashida Poet Other

FIRE

In the beginning,
it was a wildfire.
The first humans
to witness fire on Earth
could not bear
just to watch.
There was no word
for fire yet.
It illuminated the night
and roasted the flesh of beasts.
When I began writing poetry,
books were burning.
Lightning struck,
and flames spread.
As I watched,
I felt the urge
to kindle fire myself.
There was no word
for poetry yet.
I could walk outside at night,
beasts grew fearful
and no longer
approached me.

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Lin Lane May 22, 2025 at 4:32 AM Your poetry is written in such manner that I feel it should be whispered as if in reverence to its intent. ;-) Shinsaku Ashida May 22, 2025 at 12:26 PM Thank you so much. Your words are deeply touching— to know that my poem invites a whisper means more to me than I can say.