the fire in our hearts

The firewood was ready. All I needed to do was bring the lighter. But, I was already warm. I kept telling you that I didn’t need a fire. You insisted we may need it later.

I’ve burned before, but not without kerosene. So, you walked me through each step to start it. This kind of fire required more work and it didn’t grow as fast. Nor did it burn as hot. But, once it began, we tended to it and kept it going for as long as we can. You were the one who collected wood while I stayed where it was warmer. Sometimes, I think that’s what bothered me the most. It turned out that you were right and I was wrong.

So, the fire grew and the wood made music. We got what we wanted even though smoke went into our eyes. And then we ended up walking away before it went out.

I mean… it was mainly ash but, a small flame kept burning when we left.