The Fire Within

The fire of the weathered tree lives in me,
cycle of life, decay and birth,
in my cells and soul,
shimmering light on golden leaves,
and I wonder what a light
on my dark places
would illuminate.
The cobwebs in my mind, and
world-weary thoughts.

The fire of the spider lives in me,
easily discarded but less easily forgotten,
returns again and again and again,
inching along a world large and foreign,
unfriendly, unnoticed.

The spider's web on the tree
connects the brown leaves and new shoots,
advancing again, always, to rebirth and life.
May its lacy shimmer light the thicket in my heart.


© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019

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