Credit: Toa Heftiba via Unsplash.

---

I am a wildfire,

A star that effervesces and multiplies;

Miracle of light.

Seeking love despite, for my innate wildness.

I am a wildfire,

And untamed with light despite,

Treacherous treks through crumbling peaks,

Shadows of the dimmest valley’s bleak.

Glowing through the vast unbroken wilderness.

I am a wildfire,

I spark with kindling thrumming in my chest;

I am a light-dancer,

Spinning with graceful footsteps,

I arabesque, plié with my aching feet;

And wild light, the rhythm of each day, consumes me.

I’m a wildfire, and in the pitch tar of silent night,

My flames draw you nigh.

When the stars mask their sparkle,

As they speed to earth, a trail of glimmer,

Stardust shimmers in their wake.

The match-sparker, streaming endless fusion;

An eternal blaze, the flickering of all candle wicks — hearths long without warmth.

So, that in this time of year,

The weary, fatigued, those stumbling,

Without hesitation remain lit; wildfires re-spark inside,

Fueling perpetually; a murmur —

“Live-on despite your woes.”

We’re no longer Atlas trembling, balancing the earth;

We’re all fires exploding into life — repurposed.

Yet, I am a wildfire too,

With no pleading, desperation or heart muscles irked.

Nothing can cease the light within me.

I cannot be shuttered by darkness’ wrath,

Nor burdens that weaken and feed on fatigue.

I am the wildfire, a rhythm; the steady pulse of life.

A summer sun that never disappears,

Warm nights, breezes caressing midnight skin.

I’ve no illusion, I’m protected;

From Winter’s gnarled icicle grip.

Fingers stretch forth to chill,

To extinguish fire’s, and numb a body hopeless to death.

Yet, I’ve been created an eternal wildfire,

My heart beating, fueled by artful hands.

Hands that tender clasp, as if I was a child lost.

No feet can stamp-out my forever flame,

Not in eternity,

Not in finite time.

I am the wildfire, love me despite my feral youth;

My untamed moments of misery.

For light bursts forth, it’s wild within me.

The creators furnace my kindling, and I —

Fearless, unashamed,

Though I be a wildfire that knows not her crossways.

But I close my eyes and press my heart,

Recognizing even fires,

Need time to remain unsparked.

Wild light masked beneath the ashes, gathering strength before the next flame is lit.

And my journey continues a fire alive within,

Unquenchable, seeking to burn trails in the dim.

A candle lit, so you can see, despite this world’s insecurity,

I am the light, my creator lit;

I am your light home to Him.

And He the home for every wildfire lit.

---

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved