touch the fire

was trusted me
this simple truth
and wore it as my skin
some memories have edges
sharp and cold
but what we do
what fire we build
to change the way (the wind)
that’s not about the places
we survived

but testament
to something more
than filigree and blood
more than wise
the one to come away
greater still for falling down
taller still than right
when stumbled in
the place (we never say)
though all about
the chorus comes
for others we have known
some are stepping lightly
to the nail

tis not for us to worry
for those within our care
are guarded in their will
and in their ways
would see us less
and never know
the strength that
is our might

in living (touch the fire)
the hand to reach
when someone else
has gone