Tag Archives: fire

Fire Woman


The pain is agonizing. A tempest of fire which engulfs my paralyzed body. A dying breath which fills my straining lungs with the weight of water. The driving beat of a death march which pounds ceaselessly through my head.

My heart, a festering wound laid open to the elements, continues to beat cadence, uselessly, unwantingly. My mind, a maelstrom of disjointed thoughts, wrecks havoc with concentration. My soul, a rank oubliette of dark forces, fights for possession of my sanity.

Yet my sanity, my beliefs, my light will win. On this topsy-turvy day, when St. George is the incarnation of evil and the dragon a symbol, my symbol, of the belief in the fantastical, the dragon will emerge victorious. The dragon, with his belief in the precious and his hope and his impossible possibilities of things beyond normal ken, will save the princess, the symbol of light, love, and truth.

I will look to the skies, the heavens above, and I will rejoice for that which is, that which was, and that which may someday be. I will wallow in the knowledge that a year of the brightest, most pure, most incredible light, rested in my hands, in my heart, and in my soul.

I will honor the memory of that light from now until my dying breath and I will never, ever forget the beauty of the world seen through the filter of those magical fairy-lights. Instead of mourning that which may be lost, I will learn to accept that which is and rejoice in that which was. I will be profoundly ecstatic that such an otherworldly spark provided such an amazing year of fire and light and laughter.

I will learn to believe again, trust again, and hope again. I will find the spark compatible, one which burns fresh and bright. There will be a flame destined to join with mine to build not a funeral pyre but a healing blaze and a new beginning.

I will burn not in the ashes of this time. I will call the dragon “Phoenix” and I will be the princess of the tale. I will rise from the ashes, be a woman on fire, spreading arms above me in exultation, laughing in delight, rejoicing in the heat of a new life.

My dragon will be my hero and we will burn together. And from the ashes of defeat we will rise again to challenge the boundaries of reality and create our own mystical world, a world in which the princess is the bringer of light and the wellspring of love, a world which brings forth the fairy-lights for all to see.

We will remember. And the spark will never die.


Kindling Love

I was a child beneath her touch, – a man
When breast to breast we clung, even I and she,
A spirit when her spirit looked through me, 
A god when all our life-breath met to fan
Our life-blood, till love’s emulous ardours ran,
Fire within fire, desire in deity
~The Kiss, DG Rossetti

Love is not a solid thing, a thing you find or receive and can tuck away until you wish to play with it.  It is not a teddy bear that sits on your bed, patiently awaiting your arms and your cuddles.  It is not a diamond ring sitting on your finger in flashy splendor, there but forgotten until someone wants to admire it.

Love is a small child, full of life but needing care, feeding, cuddling, guidance.  It wants to roam hither and yon, exploring, touching, feeling, living, all without regard to boundaries or necessities.  Like the child, love must be guided – steered away from those things that will hurt, pointed towards all that is good and sweet and wonderful.  It must be taught that patience is a virtue, that sometimes work, or chores, or life, need come first.  It must be reassured that things will not replace it, that there is no replacement available.   It will meander around, testing boundaries, learning rules.  It will encounter bumps and bruises, pain and heartache.  It should be taught that lessons like these should be heeded.  A child would be scolded for not learning the lesson of the hot stove, should love be less mature?

There is a learning curve in love.  It is silly to believe that love can survive without nourishment and care.  You must take action to keep love alive, keep love in the forefront of your mind and your life and your soul.  Would you let your child roam near the road, or eat berries, or go for a swim without supervision?  Would you think ‘I have nurtured this child for a week, for a month, for a year … she should be able to care for herself now’ and turn back to your chores, your games, yourself?  Do you stop gazing fondly down at your child, peaceful and angelic in slumber – or does your heart stop at the beauty of that face, that peace, that life that you have created?

You cannot shelve love.  It does not exist on its own.  Love will starve without care, without support, without feeding.  Love must be created and recreated to be sustained and to grow.  You can be the leader, nudging it to where you want it to go, guiding it in the direction you wish, but you must have a hand in the being.  It does not exist without you and your efforts.

Love is a fire.  A flashburn of light, a grand beginning of flame.  The flash ignites the kindling but slowly … So slowly and carefully you must begin.  You add a small amount of fuel, tiny sticks from this pile or from that, a melding of air and fuel and fire.  You must carefully set your kindling, feeding the flames of light and desire and love and strength and create an indomitable love, a fire of forever.  You must tend and care and change and create until the fire itself is burning brightly, a testament of your patience and belief and guidance.  You cannot stop even now though, you must continue to fuel the flames, tend the fire, exalt in the beauty of that which you have created.

You must continue to make an effort; you must continue to provide sustenance to your child, your fire, your creation.

You must continue to love.

You must believe.