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Embers rise into the dark and then
Swirl and kiss and are never seen again
Fingers rise, curious, to count them,
Catch them before allowing the stars to snatch them
Noiseless, they plunge from their deck
As it twists and cackles and shrieks in the flame,
Wild with desire to hold purchase on the light
That burns them and forced their escape.
And there's you, and there's me,
observing the scene of this graceful and terrified
stream of refugees,
smoke in our eyes, stars under our feet,
we are only accidental bedfellows
Fire for the water
Fire for the water
I need some fire for the water in me
Give me fire for the water in me
I've waded into the shallows and tried to appear deep,
Penetrated your sleeping hours when you were not around to see;
Do my songs settle in your ears as you're lashed around your mast,
As I strike across your timbers, your wake caressing me apart?
And if I could carve from this beach another hour, another week
from those fawning little waves and rocks,
For every weighted arm that comes to rest around me
I count backwards from sixty
And I do it a lot.
Fire for the water
Fire for the water
I need some fire for the water in me
Give me fire for the water in me
Embers fall into the stars and then
Swirl and dance and kiss
And are never seen again.
Fingers rise, curious, to count them,
Catch them, hold them.
~ Brendan Bonsack 2007
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