stonepoem : 365

This white flame burns
all bad things,
turns mourning into dust
moves morning into dusk
lingers long like lovers
after lust.
Between head and heart
ancient in my breast
there is a fire -
white glow burning
sending powder-ash
sad things tinder-piled
bad things turning
cinder riled.
White flame burns
and everything must go
even things I am scared to know
even thoughts I dare not show -
now I’ll raise a weary hurting throw,
stack all ills of life and set alight
upon this white flame pyre.

And down came rusty stars
raising arms for all to shine
and low we dressed our frownfolk scars
chasing psalms and twisting twine (again)
with dreams but not quite ours
we carry ladders into night
pine the scent of cosmic wine
and then, we smoothly rise
like ancient sparks
like hilltop fire
and now, like cinder’s climb
inclined from pine to sky
we fly above
this awkward,
paradigm.