Flames of Freedom

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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.

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

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Holes

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Holes are part of who we are –

life, when lived, dispenses scars,

beauty with a beauty mark,

evening the field.

Holes that humble prideful face,

put us in a wounded place,

teach us that to live in grace

is where our holes are healed.

 

Dust

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You hold your head high

on a neck stiff with the starch of arrogance;

you may live at an elevated altitude,

but your collar is as blue in the shade as any other,

your substance is as much dust as mine.

If you will own your weaknesses,

embrace the molecules

which bleed when torn,

perhaps –

perhaps our souls could

fill the same sea,

our waves could curl on distant shores

and make of foreign pebbles

a new form of

dust.

Leaning Into Light

Leaning into Light will show your flaws, that much is true;

Blemishes and wrinkles will come sharply into view –

But if you can swallow pride down deep and step into its rays,

Morning highlights beauty’s glow, and beams with heaven’s grace.