Fire Constellation

Mutable, movable fire,
elemental ally illumines path forward, toward
pallid shadows, winter’s truth.  Can I touch the flame,
purify by sacrifice, claim promise
of consciousness explored?
Foreign sages, under jungle judgment, squandered
martyrs to mad men’s games. No longer respond
to names no longer their own.
Take a chance.  Spin the wheel.  Go off script.
Seeker and lantern, sojourners’  night torches,
pilgrims obsessed by guiding stars.
So much depends on who we perceive we are, what
we believe.
Liars, pirates, dashing thieves parade
vast centuries, sell forgeries as class.
Faith in eternal free passage might
spread more genteel philosophies.
 *
Myth
Dance
What it is to be human.
In search of worthy answers,
questions met on the trail.
 *
Still far from hellfire, purgatory suffocation.
Annoyance, choking smog
blocks pleasure or clarity.
In trance to intuit story, myth or reverie.
If I could catch hold it might show me
how to proceed, achieve
real release, profound consummation.
 *
Meditating on ceremony.
Need for belief, if only as language,
basis of code.
Stars guide.  Myths abide, relay
arcane notes for navigation.
Out on ice flows, alone, nothing to lose,
no feeling in fingers or toes, only sharp
echoes, call of lingering pain.
Where would we go in the dark with no
destination that might become home?
Supplication.
Affirmations.  Self-imposed isolation,
repurposed hate.
Snarled in intolerable events,
how can future be kind
unless to each mind every action
binds with an unwritten next.
If blessing exists, if sage Universe,
unwinds as it must, is worthy of
trust, attests benevolence
that takes us in, what virtue is sin
enacted as abstinence from grace?
To run in divinity’s race, to win,
we need shared direction, careful faith.
 *
Metaphoric ornate boxes to secure meaning.
Movable fire for warmth and seeing.
Torchlight friend, staunch companion of
journeyers.
Knowledge, made malleable as teachers haggle.
So fragile a good, vulnerable to tainted weight,
to interpretation.
Futility, a lyric that rings true?
Stories revive spirit.
 *
Stories denote function, form,
enculture right and wrong,
teach weak can rise up strong.
Doctrine coded as song for easy lifting.
Swaddled in ethos, gospel
intoned, legends millennia old and
ever renewed.
More clever than tongues that communicate,
consolidate shared observation as science.
Subtle, stable communion seeps, fills
troubling chinks, informs not what, but how we think.
Narrative language carries humanity,
defines our road.
 .
 .
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