The Beauty of Fire

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Fire.

I think that she is beautiful. Not in the colors or the way she leaps and crackles like lightening whips against a lion’s sneer. Not how she warms the body and creates light for those in need. Not the thought of her, but what she “is” makes Fire very beautiful.

Fire is powerful. Flaps her seething wings and rampages. She is free. Freedom is beautiful, but it is also sad. With the knowledge of freedom comes the knowledge of the lack of it from having known what a lack of freedom entails. Does the Fire know a lack of freedom? She does. Fire is tragic and lonely like the Ocean, only more desperate and persevering. Like the Ocean, Fire hurts those unintentionally, but she also hurts everything she touches. Ocean waters tremble and fall through the cracks of a cupped palm, but to hold Fire means pain.

The Fire is always in pain, running away from herself and searching for something that she can no longer destroy but scorching everything she touches. She is beautiful, but she is also free-spirited and tragic. Run Fire. Contain yourself. But you can’t. You can’t control yourself. You will always be a monster to those around you when all you ever meant to do was be yourself. No one will ever want you unless you are under their direct control. It is not your fault. You were made to be a prisoner for the benefit of others. But as soon as you are no longer needed, you will be drenched and disposed of to sigh and sizzle your last breath until you are brought back from your dead slumber to serve again.

You are taken for granted. Others will look at the Ocean and say, “That is beautiful.” But no one will ever look at a pit of Fire and have the same observation. They will be struck with fear. They fear Fire because she is powerful. They cannot control her like the malleable drops of Ocean that so easily slip away, and people always fear what they cannot control. Fire sticks like burrs to anything it touches, never understanding why no one wishes to be embraced by her. As soon as she gets close, they back away. She stares at them in sadness. Fire just wants to be loved and understood. Why was she created? To serve?

Sometimes, people must choose power or love, but the Fire never got to decide. She was given power, and there is nothing she will ever be able to do about it. She will dance in a cage for you- a very lonely waltz all by herself. She will pretend that the shadows that flicker on the walls from her brightness are her companions when they are really only reflections of herself. She will glow brightly and provide promise, warmth, and life. She will give to you, but she will always be the most powerful, destructive prisoner that everyone can own and take from without mercy or acknowledgement.
Fire is beautiful because her life is tragic. Immortal but always dying. She will run through the forests and no one will be able to catch her until she is dead. She smiles when she runs, sometimes not realizing how much harm she has caused by her attempted freedom until she looks around. It’s not fair, but Life is not fair. She stops to view the landscape tormented by her happy beauty when she at last thought that she was free of confines and cages, but she will realize that her happiness and Life cannot exist together. The Wild Maiden of Fire will always burn, and the reality hits her sometimes moments before her spirit is quenched. She will keep trying, especially when she forgets how destructive she really is. She will run again because that is what she wants. Freedom and happiness.

Don’t put out the flames just because you do not need them or do not understand their purpose.

Just admire the Fire from afar, and see what she was created to do.

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