10. Precious Fire (10)

I sit on a log
Watching a smoke from a fire;
The roaring of flames
And the cracking of wood.
Children yell with laughter;
And their eyes beam with the light.
The story within their minds scare me.
But to them it's a game.
The warm heat, it's a sensation.
Of safety? Who knows?
The hissing of the damp wood interests me.
It reminds me of a home I had...
A log is thrown on the fire
And a pyramid scours gracefully;
Yet, sharply, into the night sky:
It is a power of its' own.
Destroying, heating, or giving to someone like me,
A peace of mind.
The light dwindles as time lingers on.
The air around me is chilled;
And I put on my coat.
The fire has gone out now;
But the cinders are burning on.
Let the precious fire burn on.