Glowing embers
like little drops of fire,
sprinkled over the wood.
Dancing like fairies
glancing into a window
where nothing is understood.

Like the coals
They dance relentlessy
moving with the breeze.
The forest pixies
steals our secrets
and hide them in the trees.

But the fire burns
savagely beautiful.
beautifully savage.
It burns.
 

underneath the brush
we can see the truth
but it falls apart
like all good secrets
nothing is told
and stays in our hearts

But the fire burns
savagely beautiful.
beautifully savage.
It burns.

It burns.

My secret - Eric Enwood 05/12/01