my chest is a forest fire

Anxiety woke me

in the dark hours

before morning

raw wounds

buried fears and

dormant dreams

kindling sparks within me


Anxiety woke me

in the dark hours

before morning.

Why must I carry this branding scar?

Grief is love that blisters on the inside, she sighed.

Bursting pain is the beginning of healing, he consoled.

Everything rising goes through the fires of resistance, she insisted.


Anxiety woke me

in the dark hours

before morning

my chest a forest fire.


We are fired into life with a madness that comes from the gods, Plato warned.

I couldn’t bear the anguish so I double-knotted my shoes and ran.

I erupted with a dragon’s fury as fresh air provoked my chest-flame;

Fumes of pain spewing into the air and within me rising again

Can anything ease this restless wildfire? I cried.


I saw the shimmering stars and my legs stopped pumping.

In the mountain sky, the stars quieted me.

Speckled across the dark horizon, stars sparkling.

The flickering stillness pulled me close

flying spheres of fire spoke to my aching

Aren’t we all burning diamonds passing? I prayed.


Distant stars and human hearts

not so different

are they?



brilliant then fading


in the dark hours

before morning,

I awoke.

Through blazing constellations

God could be saying

“Planets are made by stars exploding.

Black holes birth an expanding universe

Surrender to the mystery

You’re becoming

something new.

Some fires can only be consumed.”

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On Wounds & Wonder

This poem is part of On Wounds & Wonders, a Kickstarter project that runs until October 30, 2017.

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