The Fine Line - July 30 2023

 

The Fine Line

July 30 2023

It begins small.

Tinder, to coax a flame,

kindling to sustain it.

On my knees

in the soggy soil

I bend my face close,

cup my hands

to shelter it

from the cold shifting gusts.

Then, one-by-one

small dry branches

are placed with care,

as if crafting

a handmade work of art;

too slow, and the fire sputters out,

too fast

and it smothers.

Attentive

measured

protective,

I must navigate the fine line

between too little and too much,

my vision

tunnelling down

to this select pile of wood

carefully sized,

the precious flame

I'm shepherding.

Could focus

be more singular?

In a life, where more is better

and impatience rampant

such self-restraint

clears the mind.

And in a life

of instant gratification

and easy excess,

how refreshing

to have to depend

on fire.

Could anything

be more ancient than this,

more elemental?

And later,

scooching closer

we circle the dancing flames,

backs cold, faces flushed;

our eyes, reflecting the light

mesmerized by its play.

The blaze

demands to be fed

and we happily comply.

Sparks jump

as we feed it higher.

No restraint now.