Embers to Stars
On a still night, with ambient light
nothing more than flames rising
from ash and maple into thin smoke
that wafts upward in a loose spiral,
coaxed ever higher by glowing embers
that lie in the pockets between
those slowly settling logs,
we sit in a circle, feeling the warmth
seep into us as it pushes against
the chill pressing into our backs.
Talk of the day’s events behind us,
we gaze into the sky in awed silence,
a wordless communion blessed
by a blanket of stars, those flames
now as if nothing. Even as the fire
is reduced to embers, the night’s chill
has no effect, for what could rival
a brilliance that inspires the imagination,
kindling wonder that knows no bounds
as it blazes across the sky?
This poem is my response to Twiglet #273: across the sky.
Off prompt, but also shared with Day 8 at napowrimo.net.