Starting a Fire with Ink from My Pen

It started with a fire
built with young leaves
and the ink from my pen.
Whether it is your fault or my own,
our lives are intertwined
in the flame.
Still, the breath of our moon
carries a message
to us both;
never offer up the slightest wave
of shame.

Calling from the ground is the rain
that found the wind
that blew paper from my hands.
A wind that practiced
the religion of picking up pieces
of broken hearts
and throwing them back down,
only to kiss their cries
with a stampede
of what they cannot understand.

A well thought out plan started out
with a fire built
with young leaves
and the ink from my pen.
It is not your fault,
nor is it mine.
If we can we ever stop listening
to the winds
that kiss the cries of our broken hearts,
from the flame, we would come
unentwined.

Author's Note

Artist Michael Cheval

Reviews

[Derek S.Keck]

It started with a fire
built with young leaves
and the ink from my pen.
Whether it is your fault or my own,
our lives are intertwined
in the flame.


These lines carry a weight of meaning for me. It sort of reminisces, in my mind, that first love your speaker has never forgotten, that love that you could almost say was built on mutual personal vanity and childhood romanticisms, yet, the events of that love continued on even though the love may not have; something esoteric and eternal to human understanding. Your second stanza is genius.

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Neva, This was such a strong brilliant write that touch the deepest part of my heart! Can i borrow your pen"LOL"

[joshua deathdealer]

I love the way that I imagined this. Excellent work..xx

[Larry Dyson]

Still, the breath of our moon
carries a message
to us both;
never offer up the slightest wave
of shame.
I think this is the message for all in this business; love of ..writing...never offer up the slightest wave of shame...