The Spontaneous Combustion.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

YOU do not ask for it
it comes,
and with it comes,
it comes like a spark, and
when the spark is there
the flame follows, and you can do
nothing about it,
it continues to its own conflagration
smoke rising to the sky
connecting you to the vastness of space
and then the spontaneous combustion stops
and you get all the ash
and then the peace of what remains there
that feeling when everything ends
and that it is over
and you think of home
and going back there
to be yourself again
whole and
undiminished.