Winter of Fire

The earth grieves, and I grieve, and I am weary of the fight

Her spirit is all spit and fire

This love frightens me, it causes me fear and ecstasy and pain and a thousand other things I never knew I could feel. It terrifies me, leaves me wounded and open and vulnerable. But I want you to know it exists. And I want you to know that if there ever comes a day in your life when you want my love, then it is here. I will be here. Always. That is all I want you to know.

And it was then, watching him eat before me, that I realised there was inconsistency in him. He said there was no difference between Chosen and Quelled; he said men were not more sacred than women, nor women less than men; he said we were side by side, matched in every way; he said all these things — but his life spoke differently. He still ate before me, first, as my lord. And in that simple act, he undid all his words.

Always at the heart of my life there has been fire.

No matter what happens tomorrow,” she whispered, “they can never take away today

They cannot put their stamp upon your soul

I ran then, following the power, ran with joy and a wild, winging certainty, right into the hearth of everything I loved. And there was no earth, no cold, no dust, nor stones nor water rushing past; but only this joy, this singing, awesome flight straight into the soul of God. Into fire.

Never had I been so conscious of the earth of the toughness and fragility and flowing life of it. I realised for the first time that the stones were not dead, nor the dust devoid of life, nor the waters vacuous. Our earth lived. It lived and breathed and sang and flowed and ached, in ever tiny part. And it’s singing called to me - whispered, hummed, through the skin of my feet, through my whole self, until with all my being I was attuned to it.

Those silent times, those times when I was one with the mountains, earth and the black stones that held fire - those times were the strength and joy of my life.

Be cool, my fevered brain. And it wouldn’t hurt you, body, to take a tumble in the snow.