There is the fire
In the roar of spectators at a game
The fire in an icy speech
The fire in the red of tomatoes
The fire of my mother’s heart
Behind the stove
The burning of oneself to chase a dream
The burning of a dream
To find oneself
There is the fire in the act of concentration
The fire at the touching of our eyes
And the fire in our silence
Then there is the fire of summer’s breath
And the fire struck by a pen like a match
A fire that licks bigger
The harder you try to snuff it out
The fire in the space between those words
And a cold fire now
Awesome… Something fiery to start my day with… ✌✌…:-):-)
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🙂 thank you, Sundaram, roar on ahead…
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So perfect…and strong…as always. So well done.
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Thank you, as always.
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My pleasure Vera, as always!
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And the fire that burns eternally in the heart 🙂
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🙂 That’s a very good one.
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A poetic rather than a forensic analysis that certainly works
for me.
Vera, I LOVE this
Big hugs
john
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Oh John, this means so much to me. Thank you, thank you! You’ve just made my day.
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My pleasure, Vera
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🙂
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