They told you to fear forest fires.
They told you how dangerous it was.
How destructive.
But they didn't tell you how
it's the earth's way of renewing itself,
of ridding itself of the grit,
so it can rise anew.

I want a forest fire to take over my heart,
to let it burn the walls,
to purge the sorrow,
to take away the mud seeping through the cracks.
It will not be a pretty sight.
Flowers will be set ablaze.
It will destroy
but it will bear.

You will see me standing
in the middle of the trees reborn—
the one who set the forest ablaze,
the one who rose up in smoke.
Changed.
Radiating.
The wind at my command.

Creating, distancing myself from my own mind
Climbing stairs with no care of time
Completely submerged in the sublime
Flying above the veracity of war noire
No agenda
No ceiling or floor
Stop us not from exceeding expectations
Set by my own creation
No concept of death
I feel alive
Except when my hands tied
And not allowed to create

© Antywnn L. Jones 2016