Fire Required

It has come and gone once again with a fervent ambition to take all those good times away. Amongst the flames of the night is where we feel truly blessed, I take that back, alive. Alive in a life that feels nomadic more and more with each passing day. A life, laughter ensues, a life to be taken seriously for the fear of being misunderstood. A life lived as a parody (hiding behind a corner trying to blend in) atop the great stage of this paradoxical scene of restlessness hidden behind glowing smiles. It's those types of smiles that draw us back to the comfortable (sanity disguised as comfort) relationships that we ignore far to often, but comfortable none the less.

The fire grows.

With the growth of the fire it brings more people to it's light, the light that dances and crackles with the movement of the music. It's the music that is provided by a pair of Guitar Men singing to the moon. There seems to be no one else around the fire except for these two, they capture the attention of the night sky as their moods become more apparent. A desperate tone now enters into the voices, seeking comfortable (wisdom disguised as comfort) conclusions of decisions that have already been made. The music stops, everyone  goes silent, it doesn't matter what we are thinking which is to honest of a truth. It's time to break the silence, Guitar Men ensue.


The flames are now creating the heat that we all crave in this deceptively "Fall" cool night. We are following through with the most natural of instincts, oh to be close to one another wrapped up in the blankets of these flames. Holding onto one another are the two who choose to love (we always choose) one another because of the many nights spent surrounded by granite and desolate skies. Skies that were ready to be forged by their hands, their own written universe, a tall story to tell. A story that only they will truly know, share, and nourish with travels and books that fuel their journey. New contrasts of color is sketched into their skin as the fire waivers gently in the midnight breeze.
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The fire smolders.

  The embers now create faces in the fire as they glow in a pulsating kind of a way. The fire seems to have a heart on its way out, simply unfamiliar with how to let go. I look back to the good times now fading away with the fire, almost forgotten with the year that I have just lived. To grow and smolder with all of these fires we have shared. It's fitting to spend this night with all of you, a night where I grow another year older in the face of this dying fire. To age around fire is to stumble (always seeking balance) around and find a way to seek these ageless nights. I grew up.

The fire dies.