All This Burning
These words are stuck in my mouth and my hair is on fire! Outside it is raining. Inside my teeth are choking me. “Come closer,” says Mystery, “Write your story while getting all wet. And don’t return the Creator’s gift because it is not what you wanted, not what you expected.” The sun feels no guilt. He freely admits to spending eons setting your hair ablaze, while the wind and the ant are slowly carrying you away, one grain of sand at a time. All of this burning, all the comings and goings of feelings full and of feelings empty, might mean absolutely nothing without the soothing balm called Love.
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