WHAT I SAY IN WORDS I KNOW IN FIRE

There is a single part of my being which can’t be defined by science, classified by Linnaeus, originated by Darwin. It’s the most important part of me and my reason for being here. It is the eternal individuality which is planted in my being. Sometimes it feels like a root among others – after all, there are many roots in earthly life – but the difference is that it has a vision of the sky in it which those other roots, born of earth, don’t have. And this vision lifts me up, from where I lie level with the earth, to reach my natural worth. My worth is much greater than I can ever realize, but conscience, which is a distillation of my being, has an instinct for it when it wishes for the best that I can attain. Conscience, too, is tangled among those roots piled down below and can’t always distinguish itself. Often it’s easier not to do what is right. And yet that one root – the eternal individuality – is stronger than the rest precisely because it owes its life to those things the ground can’t know anything about.

 

And what I say in words I know in fire – the sense of the true inner being is too strong to put down on paper. It’s a spark which increases in intensity as it reaches higher, and which is tinged with the gold of love. This spark was not formed on earth and doesn’t belong to it. It was always kindled in the eye of God and has waited for the chance to prove its worth by kindling, in turn, fire within the driest reaches of the world.

 

This is my science and, if you look hard, you’ll find an origin of the species within it.

 

Ground

We start so low who have to rise so high,

and here I lie just level with the earth –

but in me lives a vision of the sky

which lifts me up to reach my natural worth.

My being is conscience, wishing for the best,

while tangled in the roots piled down below,

and yet that root is stronger than the rest

which owes its life to what the ground can’t know.

 

Fire

And what I say in words I know in fire,

the truth which on the paper draws back singed –

that what increases in me reaches higher,

a spark which with the gold of love is tinged.

And this spark never did belong to earth

but always kindled in the eye of God,

and waited for the chance to prove its worth

by kindling fire within the driest sod.

 

Best wishes, today,

Landar

 

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