Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Fire: The Morning Ritual

Fire: The Morning Ritual
Kneeling before the woodstove
Like the supplicant I am
Carefully wadding and placing
Yesterday’s news, I think fit use
And disposal of all the ugliness
Out There to serve my need
Then the small kindling-sticks
The right-size twigs with their dry buds
That will blossom only to start my fire
Then scanning the hearth-side stack
Of ready logs and limbs
(But pausing to remember and be thankful
For that particular tree
And my beloved chain saw)
Looking for the next right size small branches
To lay atop my little kindling pile
And thankful to find just the right first one
The right size and crooked so as to drape itself
Fittingly across the kindling-pile
Like the compliant sacrificial victim it is
Then quickly finding the other right size and ready
Starting limbs, thankful for all of them
And the strike-anywhere matches
Not forgetting to be thankful for the hands
That fashioned and forged this wonderful stove
And for the fire that serves my need.

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