just a little wind.
just the slightest breeze
kindles a dying spark into a healthy flame.
and the fires swept across the land.
stripped the meat off the land and
the ashes of the land are left behind.
how many houses burned? how many families fleeing? how many dollars lost?
Oh, billions. the smoke blurred your vision and
stung your lungs, and you were a hundred miles
away across the bay. yesterday
one started in the south too.
they’re uncontrollable now,
raging across the fertile farmland, spewing dark dust. and
the sky is red like blood.
the air will suffocate you.
Just a few words.
“Why does she have to be so smart?”
“I hate him.”
Be careful, just a little
breeze will get the spark going.
Too much and you’ll put it out.
slowly—and slowly it will spread.
The rumors have been planted, now
just harvest the weeds.
Reap the harvest that will feed no one
and will only cause pain.
It hurts deeper than any other pain.
How is this hate so strong?
It unites and
“it was a pleasure to burn.
A special pleasure to see things eaten,
to see things blackened and
The groups who oppressed the Jews.
The groups who attacked the African Americans.
The groups who burned the hopes and dreams of
the natives, the women, the rainbow community.
They had hate.
Though it was hate in its most
extreme and violent form,
isn’t this the same feeling
at its core?
The fuel may be different,
but the fire is still the same, still
keep up with the news.
what happened today? another shooting? more deaths?
But what about that old man who sings to newborn babies?
But what about those people coming together to raise money for
the victims of the fires?
where’s the room for love?
love is a fire
too, just less wild.
it forges connections.
the people sit around for warmth,
they sit around with their marshmallows and chocolate,
they sit around talking
about the past, about their memories.
they talk about the future too, about their
you can’t change the past
nor the future, but you can change
we did it,
we’ve always done it. So why
can’t we do it to this fire now, this fire that
wraps around the globe, this hostile fire whose
was lighted at the dawn of time.
The grass is growing
again. The baby trees have a chance at
life. They are nurtured by the ashes of their parents.
Nature knows how to make the most out of a
tragedy, it knows how to find beauty in the
ugliest places. Arching over the world,
rainbows after a storm are a
promise, a reminder of
New fires are being ignited,
will put them out?