Flames of Freedom



Pressure and heat and

the presence of flames

(that deadly hellish

Trinity) made her

kindling temperature

an inevitability. And oh!

the pain,

the raw ooze as fire

tattooed skin; but as she

surrendered, her fear

went up in smoke. Her

selfishness and pride

burned away, searing

suffering soul, until only

true silver remained. Now,

her light is a beacon –

infinity’s fire – a

path of illumination for

others to follow the

Flames of Freedom.


It’s pretty cool what you can do with a burning stick at a campfire…

Evening Embers



Evening embers, stirred

slow and deliberate

as the fire burns low,

afterglow of warmth


Talk turns contemplative,

each staring into

coals of yesterday, where

memories dance in flickers


Carefully turning

marshmallow clouds

so they don’t

go up in flames