The other day

he mentioned a moment

the fires were lit

a smoldering ember

always begins

with oxygen

feeding, breathing, sucking

out the air around to fuel

the next lick of flame

when the smoke suddenly emits

a flash, pretty, magical, light

that reflects our soul

while eyes breathe its glow,

we resonate in what we have created.

The other day

man became the impetus

for a dialogue

that creates a strain

on the fabric that surrounds him.

If fed with controversy

the fabric becomes heated, tense,

nervous at the reckoning

that may very well encompass

everyone around him.

Where do our fires begin

that emit only an energy of warmth

and shelter

rather than destroying what is good

for the sake of self-preservation.