Burning

Life is beautiful and painful. Like a fire maybe?

Burning

like a Christmas present,
wrapped in golden foil
bound in cords of silver
everything tied in place
for I have a life blessed
yet, the edges of me burn

fate has placed me poorly
too close to where things burn
tears wetting my burning solitude
fingerprints dissolving into ashes
the glittering foil vanishing
revealing a cardboard numbness
the whole of me aware
I will be consumed,

the edges of my paradigm
cut deeply by silver bindings
once providing a comforting assurance
now, a molten casket for ashes
buried in the memory of intentions
of what might have been…

night lingers as the fire wanes
the silver cools solid
a shiny gem in a desert of ash
refracting the lights of Christmas
as if something remembers
the thrill of anticipation
the careful wrapping
the joy of giving,

filling the cup of life’s sorrows
with the wine of loving heartbeats
even as ashes turn to ashes
there was a purpose ~

and as long as there is breath
there is fuel
as long as there is a burning
there is life €

Reviews

[Chris]

A thought-full piece that I wanted to follow through to it's end. Says a lot of the mind it came from.

You take care,
Chris

[Scott Kris]

I always stayed and watched the last embers loose their glow and turn black. I think a good poem mesmerized us to sit with it until it turns cold.

Thank you very much for reading abd your kind comment.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I love the sadness and spark of hope in this. It immediately reminded me of Leonard Cohen and his metaphorical ashes. “Poetry is just the evidence of a life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.” I sometimes feel as if I writhe in ashes. Well done.

[Scott Kris]

Thank you for your comments. I love the thought you shared…. Yes! It really feels like the ashes of my pain sometimes. Wow. Perfect description of poetry.

You made my day.

Scott.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

You're welcome. Leonard Cohen was remarkable.

[W. Barrett Munn]

Hi Scot,
I get the message that although blessed there are parts still damaged and the war to make the good outweigh the bad.

(you might consider placing the edges of me burn at the end of the first stanza, i.e., but the edges of me burn.)

Winston

[Scott Kris]

Thank you. Yes. The first stanza is a sloppy introduction. Like stumbling into a room. Ha.

Thank you for reading and for the constructive advice.

I’ll give it a whirl.

Scott

[Lisasview]

Hi Brad,
Interesting thoughts wrapped into a metaphor for love and the want of it.
Read this a couple of times to find a clearer meaning - a message.
The concept of foil paper and Christmas is quite good..and Ofcourse the burning fire..and ashes.
Enjoyed it,
Lisa

[Scott Kris]

Thank you for reading and leaving a thought.
I’m not sure if this was about a love affair as much as it is about everything we give in life. It all burns… and it’s all worth giving.
Have a beautiful day.

Scott.

[Lisasview]

That is what is so wonderful about poetry...when one reads it they might have a different feeling about it than the poet had in mind when he wrote it...
Lisa

[jacob erin-cilberto]

it feels like loving is worth it...there are sorrows from loss, but to love is worth the burn, well worth it.
I concur.
There was a purpose....a heart has to die to live.
j.

[Scott Kris]

Always worth it I think. And what an adventure. Ha.
Thank you for taking the time to review and comment on my very amateurish poetry. I’m not near the level of professional writing you have accomplished. Still, I think it matters to be able to find outlets to express emotions even when one is unskilled. Like singing in the shower. Ha. It just feels good.

Scott