Thursday, March 24, 2011

the melting point of wax means nothing to me.

In some it is never lit.
Straw and cinders smoking forever as they float through ghost-life.
They smother flames in fear,
and die from lack of heat.
In others it cattle herds them to destruction,
relentless in hunger.
It peruses them from one passion to another,
until their whole landscape is charcoal.
In few it creeps across dry ground,
slow and seemingly subdued,
but it drives them none the less,
to great heights as they escape the cinders,
to great works as they climb to safety.
In the end the product is the same for all.
In the end the fire will consume them.

How to start a fire?
Are you sure you want to know?

-- Alexis Neptune

...from the Further Seems Forever album.  If I could get a huge text tattoo it would be of this poem.  I have it on my coffee mug since early college.  We enjoy false safety only to the death of our dreams.  Shall we start a new adventure now?