to discuss important things in life –
better than most.
No one huddles close to fading embers by accident,
though an invitation is rarely required either.
No one is long a stranger
who can contribute a timely split of log,
or glimpse of life or reasoned opinion.
Identities are lost in steam from chocolate mugs
and shapelessness from bundled cloaks
and stories from another time.
I sense a shiver from my left
and extend a gnarled hand –
taken quickly by a sexless frozen fist.
This I can do!
I send a pulse in tune with the whispering coals –
from charka womb through heart and hand –
a message gentle –
a song of warmth and cherish.
It is easy to send a little heat energy to another person –
the problem is finding one who will allow it.
It doesn’t require friendship or love –
just lack of fear.
Easy by a campfire –
the angry world ends at the circle.
Small fire – huddle close –
whisper instead of shout.
My soul’s reach is limited, you know.
I blame it on the embers.