The day burns red as it melts into dusk
When tiny points of light begin to poke through the sky’s dark veil
A road map to the roots of a cosmic tree
In which man is but a molecule in a single bud
On the smallest branch buried within the leaves
We light a fire at our feet and
Warm our soles by its glowing side
Shooting sparks of passion up into the cold air
Floating gently up, only to be smothered in the dewy grass
As they fall inevitably back down to the earth
We gaze into the fire and contemplate burning
Until our brows grow too hot from the flames
So we crane our necks upwards and become
Anchored in the gleaming stars
The constant, steady shimmer of time out of mind
An eternal witness to the rising and falling
Of ashes, flames, and men
I realized we’ve always been torn between the fire and the stars
In a clear night they compete for our gaze
But fires always burn out leaving only ashes
While grand constellations, unflinching, remain