The Flame

By Reena Saxena

The music grew louder, as the evening progressed. But, my gaze was transfixed on the flame in the fireplace. I saw the various gyrating shapes, both dark and glowing. Were they dancing, or trying to jump out? Were they celebrating life, or embracing death?
It all depended on the elements were they made of. Fire, smoke, timber and the bricks all had a distinct identity. Yet, it was fascinating to see them present a single, united picture.

You see me today
Celebrate me tomorrow
I am your spirit.

Options are open
Make, till it finally breaks
Live, till you meet death.