Belligerent Poetry

fire

and it takes so much to let me see
what it is we might have to be
where we are supposed to go
and what you're asking me to know
before the wind picks up again
flings me outward as only it can
sets me down gentle & slow
on the edge of a land wreathed in snow
where the name that's on the door
isn't who you are any more
and in the light of the fire
you can make whatever
you desire.

-wil 12.23.01