fire and rose
Each morning i wake and light a fire
surrounded by oak trees, home up on poles
smells of wood burning i never tire
chunks of wood and i know our special roles
yet close to me a different fire burns
blue jays, squirrels, snakes, sacred beings lose homes
even a redwood old and knowing she learns
no matter how sweet life, fire spins, roams
sky darkens into deepest reds and greys
grief touches hearts who need the forests there
so difficult to contain throughout days
the fire burns and leaves the forests bare
trust mother earth will hold sacred souls close
as a bud unfurls, grows into a rose
Joan Ashworth-Ward is a retired teacher, mother, grandmother, wife, sibling, friend, hospice massage therapist. She also writes poetry and finds it immensely edifying and illuminating. Mother Nature, with all her lovely flowers, has been especially inspirational to Joan during the pandemic.
Each morning i wake and light a fire
surrounded by oak trees, home up on poles
smells of wood burning i never tire
chunks of wood and i know our special roles
yet close to me a different fire burns
blue jays, squirrels, snakes, sacred beings lose homes
even a redwood old and knowing she learns
no matter how sweet life, fire spins, roams
sky darkens into deepest reds and greys
grief touches hearts who need the forests there
so difficult to contain throughout days
the fire burns and leaves the forests bare
trust mother earth will hold sacred souls close
as a bud unfurls, grows into a rose
Joan Ashworth-Ward is a retired teacher, mother, grandmother, wife, sibling, friend, hospice massage therapist. She also writes poetry and finds it immensely edifying and illuminating. Mother Nature, with all her lovely flowers, has been especially inspirational to Joan during the pandemic.
