Fire
* * *
The fire whispers words of warmth
when it is cold outside
The fireplace is bright with light
when it is dark at night
The smoke is curling up outside
and seasons winter's air
The flames are burning high and low
and restless everywhere

It's always different from itself
each flame a new creation
The atmosphere it spreads is calm
the mood for meditation
The burning beauty of the blaze
lies in ist lively shape
All kinds of figures forming fast
short visions that escape

It looks so cosy, tender, soft
when wrapped around the logs
But it's mere sham, 'cause it destroys
the things it nourishes of
Small yellow tatters get torn off
the frazzled patches flare
they give a second's life to ribbons
that vanish in the air

Fluttering motion on crackling ground
unsteadily flickering sparks
Get sucked up by the chimney flue
and swallowed by the dark
What was a blazing carpet first
turns into embers fast
A glowing transitoriness
just ashes left to last