The Rising Ash/Follow the Firefly

Deep red, orange, crackle & pop.
Tongues of fire lick the evening air,
In contrast, blue-black sky at horizon stop.

Fuller flames consuming thick logs brown.
Floating gently on rising yellow wind,
Blackening ash shows no sign of frown.

Dancing firefly in singleness divine.
Moving effortlessly in the fluttering light,
Spies ember prancing by the burning shrine.

Lulling closer the two begin.
Ceremoniously chasing fleeting shadows,
And before all, in unison sing.

Drifting from the blinding light.
Wisps of smoke devour tearless eyes,
And from each other, in haze, lose sight.

By Pete Scopes