I am fire

I am the heat of anger, and the warm spark of laughter

I am a child, leaping on the walls

I am a painting that tells a story in paintbrush strokes

And a mother that sings a crackling lullaby

I enter with ashes on my palms

And leave sooty footprints at your doorstep

I tread silently through the shadows of the night

Leaving the musky scent of smoke in my wake

I am a night crawler

That slumbers beneath a blanket of coals by day

And dances by the light of the dark

I am non-existent fingers

Wispy arms and legs

A body of ashes

I am smoldering misery in a downpour

And a flickering will-o’-the-wisp in the wind

I am confidence in the form of a fierce golden-orange glow

I am cheer in the form of burnt marshmallows

I am love, because I, too, 

Can die,

Come to life,

Flicker in uncertainty

Burn with pain and grief

But in the end,

I will always remain

Fire