Fire Shouts
Voices of fire, booming,
crackling explosions cry out their sulphuric elation.
Another celebration, of every nation and
baby new year’s rattle rings out to the heavens;
transition is sometimes sweet; sometimes sour.
Hopes ride high for the coming months; dreams’
are revived by Father time’s passing.
Like the phoenix, he will rise again;
his labors fill the days and nights of mortal illusion.
It’s said that, we create our own reality;
if so, why does he labor through every incarnation?
Could it be that we are he?
Fire shouts to our collective subconscious
and we are renewed;
an opportunity to create peace lies ahead.
Happy New Year it cries; a new reality waits.
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