What’s your fire, the force that empties you to ash? The options are only two: both fear and love consumes; it’s up to you to choose. The wood of this cross goes up in dancing flames and after the forest burns wildflowers first return and seeds of dead trees open. Burnt our broken dreams and signed upon our foreheads to remind us who we’ll be when we get to where we left. Fire throws its light on faces that see faith everywhere is everything raised an aching offering raised on fractured wings. Help us wait and pray then help us pray to wait, for we’re too deadly quick to ease the slightest itch while deeper wounds go missed. At night desert cold invades speechless stars to this a savior’s sent to this the Spirit sends to this the world is lent. ++++++++++++ A video musical reflection of this poem is found here [1] -