Fire

© Rolf Hendriks December 2004

Fire is frightening, no it’s quite horrifying,
it flashes like lightning as it sets its flames flying.
It scorches and burns as it sizzles and churns.
Its dark smoke is caustic as it catches my eye.
“Fire is dangerous, I must stop it!”, I cry. 

So I beg and I plead and I yell and I shout:
“oh, fiendish fire, why won’t you go out?”

“I’m strong and I’m proud”, the fire shouts out,
“and I won’t be controlled,
I am fiery and frivolous and boisterous and bold!” 

Fire is stubborn, I just can’t control it,
when I tell it to move it responds cold and stoic.

So I go and I poke it with a big prickly stick
but the stick goes right through it, it just snaps like a twig
and the flames keep on flowing ’til they’re bigger than big
saying “ha, you can’t hurt me with your big prickly stick!

I will burn where I want, sticks and stones make me stronger.
If you try to fight me I will burn even longer.
I am bold and I’m proud and I spew fiery flashes.
I will eat what I want then I’ll turn it to ashes.” 

Fire is tough, and it’s strong and it’s mean.
You can’t even hurt it with a hurting machine!

“But why must you fight me”, the fire inquired.
“I just want to dance until I get tired.
I love to be fiery. I live to be free.
I’m sure that you know someone else who’s like me.
But there’s much more to me, as I hope you will see,
if you’ll sit down and listen, just listen to me:

Although I fight wars and I seem mean and boasty
I also make s’mores come out warm, brown, and toasty.

I can make you feel warm, from your head to your shoe,
on those cold winter nights when you freeze ‘til you’re blue.

I can show you a show, and send sparks flying high,
bringing blitzes of beauty to the dull black night sky.

I can light you a candle on a bright starry night,
send a spark through your heart, make the moment feel right.

I can do many things as a service to you.
I can cook you a meal, or a soup or a stew.

I am bold and I’m proud and I spew fiery flashes.
If you know how to treat me, there won’t be any clashes.

So gather your friends and form a circle before me.
You can make mushy marshmallows. You can tell me a story.

But don’t try to fight me if I seem to be scary.
Sooner or later I’ll get tired and weary.
I will glimmer and simmer through the cold of December
and leave you my warmth as I turn into ember.”