Sharing your fire
When someone else shares their fire, the cold in my heart eases a bit. It doesn’t seem to matter what form it takes – overt creativity, the passion of activism, reading poetry, laughter that comes from the belly, affection that comes from the heart. I’ve never been the sort of person who could get by without other people. If I’m not in contact with other people’s inspiration, I wither away.
I can tackle this by picking good books to read, listening to great music, seeking out inspired films. I can book tickets for gigs and other live shows. I can actively seek other inspired people to help me keep my own small flame going. When I’m depressed, it’s harder to make the effort to do that, simply. I’m guessing it’s not just me, and that when we dare to share our passion, intensity and inspiration, we may all be able to lift each other a bit.
During the dark depths of last week, I had a flash of insight about how important it is to me to be in contact with other people’s inspiration, and the first small, creative piece of writing I’ve done in ages came into being as a consequence…
Show me your fire.
Show me the starstruck, moon crazed
Heart surging tsunami rush,
Deranged, intoxicated, transfixed.
Show me the wild honey
On your lips.
Show me the swan flight
In your dance, show me
Enchantments, woven with fingertips
And more than this,
Show me the consuming blaze of it
In your eyes, as though
A spark could leap the gap,
One igniting the other.
And awen bolt striking as lightning,
None to say which the source
And which the destination.

