The energy of the Universe,
The speed of particles hurling through space –
Through our planet, our trees, our bodies:
Fire within and without.

One spark ignites, blazing hot,
Turning all form to ash.
That which fire does not burn:
time tends to that destruction.

If fire is the giver and taker of life,
Time is the doler of justice,
for time of life or fire.
And what is left cannot burn.

Heat is the awaiting combustion,
A creative and elemental force,
Unbridled in its curiosity and fervor –
Ever wandering in and among our spirit.

We feel the temperature of the sun;
the burns of flame and fire.
We know the warmth of summer’s day
and the safe enclosures in winter’s heart.

But so few have accessed the heat of creation,
The first flames licking life into mud and stone.
Those with such knowledge are genius,
or madmen, for it is blessing or curse.

Many more seek it, not knowing.
Asking question after question,
Hoping to receive an answer.
Not knowing they ask the question to the answer.

Seek, and ye shall find.
Knock and it shall be opened.
Who knows the way to Cold Mountain?
What do you carry with you, other than yourself?

Heat burns – can give or take.
But it is only the essence.
It is only everything, as it is nothing.
Those who speak know not; who know, speak not.


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