Of Fire and Light

A philosophic contemplation, to be taken of what the individual may.

His eyes were lost in the light of the flame. It danced, in its crudely decayed metallic cage, swaying back and forth with a grace lacking in all else. His eyes following its curves as it licked the air above with such spontaneous purpose. These tongues devoured their source, the once carefully shaped and placed logs now shriveled, consumed by their own release of light. The most veteran of these now merely coals, brighter than the rest but miniscule in comparison. No tails of light danced from these. No, these seemed to have a more reserved cautious light. Clinging to whatever energy was yet to be released from their being. 

 He found comfort in it’s warmth, the radiant heat all but erasing the cold blackness about him.  He tried resting his feat upon its edge, only to find rapid discomfort, withdrawing them lest the blister in protection from the heat. Occasionally embers floated up, flaking from the logs as they succumbed to their light, these would float, upon their own whims until softly finding homes in the dirt about the fire. 

 One such ember’s whims were especially ambitious, floating past the dirt moat of the fire and landing upon the soft green grass beyond, he moved to quench it, suffocating it’s light with the sole of his foot, lest the fire begin somewhere uncontained. It struck him, as he did so, how little beyond the fire he could see whence looking away. Despite the best efforts of his pupils to expand and glean what light they may from the world beyond his fiery focus it was still very much dark, frightening, and as is sometimes synonymous, unknown. 

 Returning to his fortress of understood light he smothered himself in the comfort of its warmth. Eyes once again trailing the tickling tails as they danced before him, too fleeting to be pictured and too beautiful to be forgotten, contrasting between the flicker of their presence and the void of their absence. His eyes traced, until they grew weary of the light. They became dreary of the watching, heavy with the weight of this and other days passed.  He laid himself down, by the warmth of his light, and closed his eyes welcoming darkness with a smile. Losing himself in sleep’s blind comfort he passed into the blissfully ignorant state of unconsciousness, unburdened. 

 The next his eyes opened a new light was piercing their veil. A great ball of fire and light had arisen in his sleep, and he arose, rested from his slumber nocturnal. The fire that had been his light lay smoking. He coughed, accidentally inhaling its smoky fumes as it smoldered, ashen and dying.  The once proud logs and even coals now were all but soot, laid upon soot of others before, devoid of energy to provide.  The landscape around him enlightened he closed his eyes revisiting his own darkness, looking within amidst so much known and inhaled.

 One foot left his old friends dirt moat, and then the other, carrying some of it with them. He ventured off into the day, spontaneous purpose in his step, a fleeting dance unique to him, he trailed out into the world … till again he would need the comfort of the fire upon the inevitable arrival of this day’s night.