Pale stillness, darkened remains,
The dead ashes of former days.
Once, the flames rose high,
As the dusk drew ever nigh,
A bright song in another night,
A fiery beacon of warmth and light.
Perhaps singing, perhaps dancing,
A celebration, a festival.
Perhaps a time for quiet reading,
Or a gathering ‘round the fire hole,
With a few friends, perhaps bringing
A meal to share with those they know.
But now the fire is quiet and still.
The ashes all that will
Remain of what was here before.
Burnt wood, nothing more.
Yet everything we still retain
Because here the memories remain.
Memories of a former day,
Campfire songs and comradery
Memories that don’t just burn away
When we quiet the fiery
Blaze that was here before.
Here are the memories, and something more.
Deep within this greyish snow,
Under that which remembers,
A faint life is down below,
The silent hidden embers.
Breathe life into them and then,
Perhaps the fire will return again.