Fire Season

Lately I’ve been turning

into fire,

those two almond shaped coals

red eyed and wanting,

accumulating heat from all

those years 

at the cranky hearth,

have broken into

open flame.

 

Sometimes I am the bowl

holding

a steady boil

gathering the emptiness

resplendent in the steam

which veils memory

and clears the breathe.

 

Some days the fire leaps

onto my fields and forest

which like any ecosystem

needs a good burn

to rejuvenate.

 

Other times I am the steam

spiraling out

into a sky

that eats me whole

and satisfied, forgets

me into sleepless cloud,

moved by wind,

aching for storm and a hard

finishing rain.