I watched the logs let the flames dance on their backs until they were dust,
like a parent who had finally had enough.
Sparks jumped, singing as they soared to the sky
before they quietly disappeared into the nothingness of the night.
The smoke seeped into our clothes as the stories we swapped
found a home in the hands of each other.
Each of us emptying ourselves.
Each of us filling the other.
Kept warm by more than the blaze.
There is something holy about simply being together around a fire.
A sacred service of confession and praise.
A glowing reminder that we were created to be;
and to be together.

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