Electric Heart Poem by Lynn Anne Brown

Not a real fire
Still it warms me
As it remembers
What is wishes
That it was
As it echoes weakly
The roaring voice
And flickered light
Of it's progenitor
Making promises
Of It will have to do
Until the real thing
Comes along
And while
You wait
I'll listen to
You wind the tales
That only a true Hearth
Can bring to life
Even still
We can sing
And learn a dance
Rehearsing the Magic
In this shadow of Reality
Until next
The tribe shall gather
To set the spark
Remembered