The brilliant yellow-orange flames dance wildly,
Flickering, flirting, frolicking,
feral and full of energy.
She licks the air with her ever-forking tongues,
Wafting her hot breath, warming the night
A happy flare - a spirited glow.
But gaze down deeper; peer intently into her heart.
There you’ll find a calmer blaze of blue.
Almost serene; a tender mother.
Yet blue burns better than blonder blazes;
gently ferocious, ravenously controlled,
consistent, persistent, unwavering, relentless,
hard to put out.
It seems so strange to find blue at the heart of the fire;
fueling the fury, enticing the embers,
maintaining the momentum, wielding the warmth.
For isn’t blue rather known to be cold?
G&P,
SF
Written: 10/6/26
