FLOWER OF THE FIRE

Birthed from chaos

Conceived to conspire

To destroy and disrupt

To drag down and mire

In the filth and the waste

Of human desire.

Found in the ashes

Fervent pulsing with power

Glistening in the sunlight

This star this radiant flower

Awake at the chasm

Could this be the hour?

That mankind awakens

And begins to correct

All the damage we’ve done

Can we become circumspect?

Or will we continue to shred

Our humanity as it dies of neglect?

Or will this flower

Grow and thrive

Or be bitter fruit?

As we struggle to survive

Or blossom new wisdom

To help keep us alive?

Days, eons, and epochs

Like seasons come and go

Boom and bust rain and rust

Seeds that die are sewn

Our eyes and hearts can see

But will our minds ever know?

That which we plant

We shall also sew

Will we ascend

Or continue to sleep?

Float to the surface

Or sink to the deep?

There will be a reckoning

We will destroy or create

If we do not seize the moment

Will it come too late?

The universe within us

Expands and extrapolates.

The impure and the righteous

And that which must be known

That which struggles towards the light

Digs in and searches for its home

The splendor of all there is

Is each of us to own

The flower of the fire

Is the sword in the stone.

JEFF S TURNBULL