We all know the story of smoke and fire,
The livid flames dressed in smoky attire.
The wild blaze tracing calligraphic script,
With hieroglyphs on its soft whispered lip.
Fire produces smoke, not a rabbit or dove,
When it burns in the heart, it feels like love.
This leads me to mention a fearsome fact,
One that will require some delicate tact.
There is a divine fire that contains no smoke,
A fire so pure it produces in us only hope.
A burning so intense, we learn who we are,
An enlightenment so bright, it lights a star.
In remembering the adage of smoke and fire,
The soul’s smokeless fire is there to inspire.
Space is unbelievably cold. It takes heat to bring cold rock to life. All of the living things that we know of require fire somewhere to be burning. Jerry writes of the heart burning in passion. It is true that our internal engine burns our food to fuel that burning passion.
They say where there is fire, there is smoke. The night of September 26 at 10 PM during the height of Harvey, the hurricane's savage lashing at our house, we smelled smoke and called the fire department. I had 10 firemen in my living room and no one seemed to be able find out where the acrid electrical insulation smell was coming from. There was fire, but it was quickly shut down by the breaker automatically breaking the circuit. Otherwise there might have been a very hot fire in my house while a raging storm was going on outside.
Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep
Share
Print
Save
Follow
They say where there is fire, there is smoke. The night of September 26 at 10 PM during the height of Harvey, the hurricane's savage lashing at our house, we smelled smoke and called the fire department. I had 10 firemen in my living room and no one seemed to be able find out where the acrid electrical insulation smell was coming from. There was fire, but it was quickly shut down by the breaker automatically breaking the circuit. Otherwise there might have been a very hot fire in my house while a raging storm was going on outside.
Ron
this poem certainly does inspire.
Love ya!
Jane
"When it burns in the heart, it feels like love." Yesssss!