Primal

When the primitive part of the brain takes over.

Why do bonfires make us gaze

With glassy stare

Into the blaze

Why do we peer into the pyre

As if writhing air

Had words limned in fire

Words enchanted…writ in haze

Scribed by fiery fingers 

In portentous primal ways

Flames dancing to a cosmic song

That tugs one’s heart

And soul along

Until the pop… and snap of ember

Brings one back 

And do we remember?

Not one whit…nor tiny bit!

Of where we were

Whilst it held our spellbound 

…Spirit… 

19 lines

Author's Note

you've been there!