It begins with a trickle
A small surge of light
And enters the room at the edges
Conversations falter
As they place on the altar
All of their flaws, their hurts, their pledges
Hedging bets, with guilty frets,
The Fire starts to stir
To spark,
to grow,
to arc,
to blur
With tightly closed eyes,
Reaches up toward the skies,
And down around the corner forming,
Curving slightly, glowing, swarming,
Burbling nightly,
Flowing brightly,
A river of fiery lights,
Inverted, on the ceiling,
The intercessors kneeling,
O'er metaphorical fights...
O collective vision
With an unknown meaning
As intuitive as fission
For wizened guide with spiritual leaning
Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 4:13 PM UTC
It begins with a trickle
A small surge of light
And enters the room at the edges
Conversations falter
As they place on the altar
All of their flaws, their hurts, their pledges
Hedging bets, with guilty frets,
The Fire starts to stir
To spark,
to grow,
to arc,
to blur
With tightly closed eyes,
Reaches up toward the skies,
And down around the corner forming,
Curving slightly, glowing, swarming,
Burbling nightly,
Flowing brightly,
A river of fiery lights,
Inverted, on the ceiling,
The intercessors kneeling,
O'er metaphorical fights...
O collective vision
With an unknown meaning
As intuitive as fission
For wizened guide with spiritual leaning
