The Fire Behind

Two pictures made in a sequence;
First, of three tears that were shed;
“Make something new of the pieces,
See where the fracas has led”.

Next was our quiet location;
Added, I saw me walk out –
Up from that place of seclusion
Into my future about.

Not as in short trip for dinner,
More like a journey with staff;
Walking on path made of shale;
Gone were the tears – time to laugh.

Into both hope and relation;
Yacht riding quiet in bay;
Dad on the deck with his coffee,
Waiting, reprieved, later day.

Back in the distance behind me,
Black were the dark slabs of shale;
All of the rest was quite peaceful,
Hope and relation not hell.

Sun in the scene was quite ‘westward’,
More than the lake could sustain;
Matching the pictures together,
Fire and the teardrops remain.

Hope in the space where the teardrops
Fell to the earth underfoot;
Gaps rising up from the fire
Tears watered Earth if one looked.

Sun in the sky – hope, relation –
Time of my passing deferred;
Hope and relation before me
Here on the earth – much preferred.

Primary colors in fire
Light for my photographs now;
Different from light of the sunshine –
God's light informing somehow.

What was that staff I now carried,
Tool to make journey with ease?
More, play on words – it's the people –
Working with team, if you please.

Out of that past raging fire
Good has arisen from tears;
Creenglish says “Seeing's their problem”–
Done is my part in their years.

Tear for the loss of profession,
Two moneyed tears fell as well;
Like lady said, “They recycle”,
Hope comes from journey through hell.

Placing first picture above it,
Second, reflection picks up –
Colors the tone in my photos,
Out of a past that was rough.

“What tears must fall,” Rabbi asked us,
“So you can go down some road?”
Tears from those angels in fire –
Journey now made can be bold.

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