The Taming of Fire
When winter came too close to call,
when it seemed that even more would fall
to the chilling blackness,
who dared awake
the beast with glowing orange hide-
released from desperate friction
and wooden sacrifice;
who did regret
the yellow teeth and sap-stained claws
that devoured them and sealed their eyes.
How many feared its light.
How many were willing to forget
and reopen the cave from whence it came;
how many received a result the same,
returning to dust.
From the bones of many
rose the monster’s cage-
which barely holds its fiery ways.
The House on the Hill
You who stare into the darkness, sitting through the long cold night,
Are you weary of being wary? Have you nearly lost your sight?
Come in the House; sit by the fire. Father’s candles never dim.
Take one, Traveler. Bring it with you, to shut out the dark and grim.
Keep it safe beside you, Traveler; never let it leave your side,
and when the darkness closes in, hold it up into the sky.
Let its light direct your feet, and when you walk along the path,
If you want a peaceful comp’ny, look for candles flickering past.
Now if you should find others, just like you were, losing sight,
bring them back here, to the House, so that they too may keep the light.
Don’t worry if they crowd the place. Father cares for every heart,
and he does not want any travelers lost, wandering in the dark.
So, every year
it changes outside, in nature
We call it spring.
What is it like?
everything’s waking up, warming up.
Shaking off the cold and–
the absence of heat, like
dead circuits, turned off circuits.
In spring, they will
have data running through them,
Nature’s like that,
I see. And then?
all the things that are alive
like in nature
are really complex,
kind of made from billions of circuits.
Billions upon billions
How many, exactly?
A lot. I don’t know.
all the circuits
activate each other,
one after another after another,
Then that living thing
wakes many other living things,
until the warmth is spread all around and through everything, every circuit,
and it all lights up, becomes alive with life and color.
It’s beautiful every spring.
Why? What makes it beautiful?
To tell you the truth-
I don’t really know.
Must I really step onto the pitching sea
with waves like giants, and foam surrounding?
To put my trust, not on solid wood,
but on Your eyes, through the shifting mist,
is reckless and daunting.
But what is faith if not a reckless hope?
You speak to me; only the depths of my heart understand.
All I can hear and see is violent thundering;
but below my feet, You bid the waters still.
You saddened sodden soldiers, rise to light
You saddened sodden soldiers, rise to light,
Through faith, we’ll labor not in hopeless vain;
Through coming storm, in silent strength we stand,
In joy and peace, though drenched by wind and rain.