It is pelting down rain.

The smoke from the chimney is caught in this rain - breathe in the heavy wood - feel my body become wild with the burn of it - know that back when men were steeped in in - skin brown - eyes misted from burning wood.

We moderns love clean electricity - can’t blame us, but fire - we can’t do without - the mesmerised glow and flicker - the ancient ancestors dancing and twisting in each leap to the heavens - fire a betwixt and between creature. Caught on the land but living in the sky - a sister of the galactic fires that pulsed us into being - we burn and are cleansed - pure gold refined - dross removed and we shine.

For far back when our lives were centred around fire - we have yet turned our backs on it - demonised the creature - banished. And so she comes back a murderer - like all things exiled to the dark - forrest fires that do not regenerate - but incinerate - this creature who was never tamed by us is yet angry for her banishment - asks for more respect - wants to be beholden by children - taken away to screens. My six year old can watch our fire for twenty minutes or longer in complete silence - something is being warmed and fed in his innermost being.

Fire is soul food and we do well to bring it back.