Treasure Island

Lonnie Hicks

( / Chicago Ill)


He walked toward her
a fire-stick in his hand
and spoke softly.
'This is fire
my gift to you.

It is safety from wild animals;
heat for your food;

romance for your life;

Igniter of Passion;
The Secret Furnace
which fuels the Sun;
the Starry Blanket
which covers the night;

the Milky Way which burns

The Heart's Flame
is Cobalt Fire too.

She touched his fire-stick
and felt the burn.

He grabbed her singed hand
and kissed it

Fire too
human things;

Passion too
sears souls.

'But how, ' she said,
'shall I know fire which heals
from Stinging Fire which
burns my soul? '

'How can I be sure my fire
is safe fire,

that all my passions
are healing flames
and not destructive ones? '

He, said 'Fire is like touch;
go close enough to feel the warmth
but don't press too much
or the skin recoils.

Fire is like two kissing lips;
go close enough to feel the heat
but pressure too much
you chip the teeth.

Fire is like making love;
it can sweep you away
but be sure Fire's Orbit
brings you back
ensuring sure you don't get too close to the burning Sun.

When young be the bubble-bee sampling nectar,
not the moth obsessed with flames.

Use fires' heat
but regard more its light;

for Fire is both;
heat is good
light is knighted.

Fire correctly lit
is a balm of both
and allows Love and Lovers
to survive.

Submitted: Sunday, May 31, 2009
Edited: Friday, February 24, 2012

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Poem of the Day

poet William Wordsworth


I AM not One who much or oft delight
To season my fireside with personal talk.--
Of friends, who live within an easy walk,
Or neighbours, daily, weekly, in my sight:
...... Read complete »

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