She struck a match to see the light
and feel the glow of human life.
It sparked and flared into the night
and tangled up in others strife.

She stuck a hand into the flame
to see if she’d feel human pain.
It seemed to whisper someone’s shame
and dangled rage as if explained.

She reached her fingertips to still
the burning sound of human song.
It scorched a verse into the chill
and jangled nerves as if all wrong.

She wreathed her palm to hold the world
to calm the heat of human soul.
It soothed the blaze that had unfurled
and angled life back to its whole.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
8/19/03 © 2003/2004

This poem and related concepts are copyright © Erin Moen 2003, and may not be reproduced in part or in whole without the author's express permission.