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Fire-Flowers
And only where the forest fires have sped,
Scorching relentlessly the cool north lands,
A sweet wild flower lifts its purple head,
And, like some gentle spirit sorrow-fed,
It hides the scars with almost human hands.And only to the heart that knows of grief,
Emily Pauline Johnson
Of desolating fire, of human pain,
There comes some purifying sweet belief,
Some fellow-feeling beautiful, if brief.
And life revives, and blossoms once again.
Spring is the purifying sweet belief that life revives and blossoms every year. No matter what. Despite scorching desolation. In the pulse of the heart that knows grief. In the kindling of the next fire. In this way, fire-flowers are the sorrow-fed gifts of spring.
Fire-flowers are not limited to spring. Fire-flowers bloom where they are planted. Fire-flowers find the sun. The fire-flower’s beauty and strength are found in its scars. Fire-flowers celebrate both the falling apart and the coming back together. Fire-flowers are the why the as if and the not yet.
About Katie
From Louisville. Live in Atlanta. Curious by nature. Researcher by education. Writer by practice. Grateful heart by desire.
Buy the Book!
The Stage Is On Fire, a memoir about hope and change, reasons for voyaging, and dreams burning down can be purchased on Amazon.