the fire gently gives
to leadened wounds
so old,
the stars can only
point towards
the first petal
of a hearts'
closing.
breath
around this fire
stokes embers,
and those
who have
no wind in words,
for now,
warm their
soul,
turn by
turn by
turn.....
around the coals
the tin cup
passes hand
to hand,
sip
the flame of life.
blue sulphur embers
with spirit of salt,
in time distills
our Vulcan stance;
and under one silver
moon we meld
- one heart,
one ring of gold.
Mimi Gauthier
Mir I Am
|