Frost’s bony fingers
Beckon us toward the light,
Remind us of warmth.
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…