Massage Our Soul
Silent and still the air doesn’t move,
Time itself has taken a break,
As our minds float around filling the void,
We’re not sure if we’re even awake,
Except for the fire flickering along,
Burning red from deep in its cage,
Using its warmth to massage our thoughts,
Our beautiful dancing hot sage,
And it happily fills the dormant black room,
It fills with a magical soul,
It fills with a seductive intoxicate song,
Devouring everything whole,
Illuminating lost thoughts, both dazed and bemused,
Holding them up to the light,
And arranging our angst, to a reliable clear,
Throughout the entire black night.
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