The Fire And The Village Poem by Marlin Nightingale

Soft in the morning, as frost paints the grass,
Silent, in concert, with a dignified wrath,
The stratus and cumulus shrouded the sun,
Merging and melding, becoming as one.

Down in the canyon a whisper was heard,
From the trees and the grass and the river,
One word...
Rain!
But that beast in the sky with its lightning-scrawled belly,
Had no mercy for drought ridden canyon or plain,
It's fingers, the wind, oh how savage and deadly,
It raked cross the land yet it offered no rain.

Now a bolt of white voltage fell down in an arc,
Illuming the land; an apocalypse spark.
In freeze frame; a pallor and blanching of sod.
A World being pierced by The finger of God.

And springing to fury as a fiend to a rage,
The white of the flash turned to yellowish blaze.
Alight on the turf; breathing hot thru the grass,
Crackling and curling; a cruel twisted laugh.

So it spread and it scorched across the dark plains,
A devilish dervish a'running from rain.
The scrubs caught a'fire with a thunderous whoosh,
And the flames licked the sky in contemptuous reproof!

How the flames frenzied;
They throttled, they fell,
As if borne by the winds
Out the mouth of a hell!

Consuming, constricting;
Twas a ravaging foe,
Spitting embers were hurled,
On the heathen winds throes.

The trees, few and scattered,
Were torches that lit
The canyon-scarred wasteland,
Like pyres in a pit.

And there thru the light of,
That ravenous flame,
Cross wagon ruts worn,
In the rugged terrain,

A spectre that haunted
The fiercest of folk...
A village that lays
In the path of the blaze,
And fields that are smothered
In carnage and smoke.

In the village the families
Are rising in fright,
To red in the west,
In that velvet black night.

And men are awaking
This hour to behold,
When nature is shaking
Like none hath foretold.

Alarm bells a'clanging
The sheriff is spurring,
His steed down the lanes,
Where the town people, stirring,
Are wakened to shouts,
Of a panicking troup,
Of wildly swung lanterns,
And clamor of boots!

'Up and to save yourself! '
The deputy bawls,
'Loose out the livestock
And empty the stalls! '

'Women to wagons,
And save what you must,
Of the goods of the house,
'Fore it turns back to dust!

The men to the horses,
And boys to the plows,
To widen the fire guards;
Unhalter the cows.

Girls to the watering,
Of house roof and stable,
And then to the neighbor,
To do what you're able! '

Thus turning and charging,
His fleet-footed mount,
Through men that are spilling,
Too many to count,

From the houses with fear stricken,
Wide eyed demeanor;
For a chill grips the air,
Like a town with a fever.

Quick did he rally,
The best of his crew,
To roust and to ride
Where the river runs through.

Ah black was the ride
Of the watchmen that morn,
For the villages hope
On the river was borne

And all that was holding the conquering blaze,
Was a ribbon of water that placidly lays.
Neath the vigilant eyes of the deputies men,
Who halt now to look on that fiery den.

But soon are the embers,
That rise on the air,
Spreading their flame
'Cross that river so fair.

And now tho the sheriff,
Sits tall in the stirrups,
His shoulders are bowed,
With the weight of the worst,

Wheeling, he cries as
He faces and turns,
''Back to the village,
'Fore all shall be burned! '

Never before has
a horse known such flight,
As back now they tore
In the dawning of light!

The village in sudden
catastrophe sprawled
With wagons and shoutings
And desperate calls.

Ah many a man there
was standing aghast
And many a look
that was forlornly cast.

Yet there in that grey dawn
Where none had espied
In the church on the corner
A little girl cried.

With curls that were framing,
Her damp little cheeks,
And eyes tightly shut,
And a sob in her speech,
She knelt in the aisle,
And lifted her face
She prayed and she spoke
And she asked for God's grace.

Dear Jesus, she prayed,
Keep my dear daddy safe,
Please put out the fire,
And the dark fear erase,
I know You will do it
Though i don't know how
But mommy said trust;
Your a God of the now.

And there on the prairie,
Oer the fiery expanse,
From high in the blue,
Where the rainbows do dance,

God whispered; and air
From that whisper did send,
A ripple throughout,
As a heavenly wind,
And cloud bank to cloud bank
The blue it did span,
Through the wispy and white,
It rustled and ran.
Til each cotton cloud
In that airy domain,
Agreed to that whisper
And started.. to rain.

Oh the first drop of silver,
That slipped through the sky,
In form of a raindrop,
From heavens up high,
Glimmered in warmth from,
A pure ray of sun,
And from that first glimmer,
A new hope was sprung.

O Christian know this
In this fiery day
When your vision is filled
With this great melee
And future is fearful
With many a fret
And the past is a demon,
With many regrets,
That God loves a faith,
That doesnt know how,
Remember that God,
Is a God of the now!



When the fire of life
is consuming your plans
And the future is dim
Cause of present demands
And the past is a memory
And to fix it, but how?
Remember your God
Is a God of now.