listen I can hear a burning,
today I dreamt of a house on fire.
But while everyone rushed out to cool air,
I heard a child's cry and I ran back into flames.
I picked her up from the floor,
(women dream of familiar females 13% more than men do, and I've heard that child's call for help from my very mouth a thousand nights over),
swaddled her and jumped out a window.
As I fell she escaped my grasp,
not outwards but inwards,
and I landed in my own arms.
Heroic.
Safe.
and then,
Awake.

look I can see a rising,
of phoenix from ash.
realisation from murk.
There is a fresh steel galvanised,
from years in the forge
to be a pillar for bridges between those less loved
and what they deserve.
Wooden ones burn best because the rot in them laps up conflagration
out of misguided desperation.
fire isn't always a friend, take it from Prometheus.

feel,
i have wellfire in my veins.
and you,
you are not worth even my sparks.