You And I In The Furnace Poem by viplob pratik

Just as the fire rages in the furnace
when the wind rushes through the stoker

you are blowing your breath all over
the coals of my anxieties

and the embers of my disorders are alight.

As the hammer
dipping into water, heating up in flames
beats molten iron
you beat my mind and emotions

the reach of my sorrow expands.

At times I feel: how marvelous is your handiwork
What sort of skill is this? Amazing—
What are you trying to make?

You are so lost in your effort
I am afraid to ask about your creation
lest I should hinder you.

Yet—should I stay quiet, asking nothing, I worry
some fearsome creation might take place
Tell me
how long you will keep stoking this fire?
How long will you beat my mind and emotions?

Could it be that you have mistaken me for metal?