Jg Collins Poet Prose Poetry

Fireplace

I 
stare,
stare into
the flames.
Mesmerized.
I
hear the 
sound of 
creation.
The 
snap, crackle,
pop of
creation.
I see 
embers flying
like burning
stars 
spinning
in infinity.
I 
see time,
present and
past, while
contemplating
 future time.
It’s all
in the
flames.
Parsing 
existence.
Turning it
over, teasing
it out.
So much
to
contemplate.
Making sense,
trying to
make sense.
Impossible.
Impossible,
to know,
impossible to
understand 
creations
meaning,
its raison d'etre.
Futile,
no way
of knowing.
I stare into
the flames.
Mesmerized!

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