Friday Freewrite

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How am I like a flame?

Sputtering, I consume what lies before me, knowing not how long I have left before my fuel is exhausted, before my ephemeral existence is extinguished forever, swallowed by the dark.

I burn passionate and bright. I gaze toward Heaven, stretch high into the sky, longing to cut my ties to this wick, this earthly tether that holds me fast to the ground in a jar.1 I burn bright, my eyes lifted toward the heavens, toward flames in the sky a thousand times as bright, durable, passionate, incorruptible (though even the stars one day exhaust the last of their fuel and cease to burn.)



1. I was trying to liken the Earth to a candle in a jar, but I don’t think I made the connection very clear.

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