It’s that fire touch,
That creative force
Full of the desire to inspire.
Ideas flow freely.
Beginnings sprout
Like violets
In a vacant lot.
Then

While the seedlings are fresh
Build a house.
Make the plan.
Buy the wood.
Craft the frame.
Drive in those first nails.
Then

Make it a skyscraper.
Scrap the wood for steel.
Sturdy.
Unyielding.
Keep building. Higher.
Until it towers over this city
Of ants and molehills.

In the end, it burns.

Advertisements