It is winter.
In the early morning I place lichen-covered
twigs that have fallen from the old madrones
into the blackened stove, slowly
adding dry pine that catches quickly
to fill the cold, dark cabin with
As the heat rises, logs of oak are
fed into the flames and the rooms
become warm and welcoming once again.
The kettle calls for tea.
The phone rings.
A knock at the door and a friend brings
sweets to share with conversation.
And all the while the fire
is kept alive and glowing.
Aromas from the evening’s fare
blend amid laughter and music.
By late night, the giant logs have become
small, flickering embers
resting in a soft bed of ash.
Let us then with good grace
release the cinders to the
vernal winds of eternity.
~ Viktoria Vidali
Images courtesy of Creative Commons.