Author Information
Thoughts
Folder:
Darkness
As I sit gazing into
the bright crimson, and tangerine,
of the flames.
I feel its warmth its strength.
Bordered by the blue gray assorted stones,
stolen from the murky waters edge.
To encircle the fire and hold it bound.
I am carried back through time
on the eagle’s wings to a place,
I do not know,
but I feel as if I have come home.
The faces, the smiles,
the sights are all familiar,
as well as the smells
of the fresh kill
slowly roasting on the spit.
It’s tangy juices,
Provoking the fire to life.
The color of the leaves,
the textures of the fabrics
are not new to me at all.
When was I here?
