Weave the Web

Fire. How can something that does not exist hold so much beauty and wonder.

It has no mass, it has no form,

It has no definite shape of size,

It's nothing, yet, in a way, it's everything.

 

You cannot hold it in your hand, but it can exist on your hand.

It’s the most confusing, yet the most simple thing in the universe.

But fire is nothing but a warmth that runs through your veins.

The Native Americans used fire for communication; the cavemen used it for cooking, we use it, in a brick fireplace, to tell each other that everything is all right.

 

There is nothing to fear. Everything is under control.

Nothing ever is in control. Its the greatest deception, and the greatest truth.

But here we are, on opposite sides of the biggest powerhouse in the world.

Facing different seas, and confronting different troubles.

 

Yet when I look into a fire, at the calmest of times, I look straight through the void of misery and dread, deception and lies, and I see you.

My greatest reassurance.

The gentle snapping and popping tells me that you're there, that everyone's there.

 

And you know what? No matter what happens, no matter what gets thrown at me, that might just be enough.

 

Fire.