Fire
Logs don’t lie They burn Or they lay still Awaiting combustion or some Shape made useful by the knife.
Its life knows first the tree Then the use at least to fall Back into soil for the next generation.
But, burn it must To kindle inspiration for What greater things we can create.
The power of industry To Cook To Forge To Kiln —
The fire burns in the human spirit Raging for us To free ourselves From the blue light Of the black box That consumes Our waking moments.