The alpine willow’s fire

burns close to the ground.


Come autumn,

as each blade burns hotter, 

a catkin rises

like a plume of smoke

or a white flag.


Come closer.  

Like you, every cell 

still hums 

from root 

to flaming tip,

each a vibrant expression

of the whole.


We have each known a wintry night

or a darkness without stars,


but this —

this lone shoot is the opposite of



It holds the creation of 

a collective, 


that will burn as

millions of prayers,


carrying us forward

like sparks,

like lighthouses,

like the stars 

that were there

all along.



*Dedicated to those of us who have felt physically powerless and/or unsafe in the presence of another human.

Yurt dweller, parent, partner, writer. Knows some things about medicine, life coaching, teaching, and the wilds.

4 Comment on “Sparks

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: