Smoke can mean a lot of things, bring up a lot of different ideas, embodiments, memories, emotions.
Smoke can be associated with a chimney in winter, or a southern BBQ, my dad smoking his pipes and cigarettes in our living room as a kid, or the sage that rises from the bundle when we pray.
Smoke is ephemeral, magic, this floating intention in our air.
Sometimes it’s toxic, or it rises from the sheer grief of rubble, and sometimes it’s exactly what we need to be cleansed.
I invite you to ask what it means to you.
Controlled Burn To be who I will become I must burn off what’s no longer here to make me new. So I pile up the rubble and say thank you to what I learned and light the match. All the smoke makes way for every prayer, and ashes become the nourishment of my tomorrows. This is where my now and one day meet, in precious, controlled surrender, an alchemy of endings made beginnings again.
My favorite place to be on a warm summer night is gathered around a campfire with my loved ones
I think the fire’s healing properties take action the moment the grandboys hear what’s happening.
They gather small sticks for tinder and with it form a little teepee in the earthen fire pit, a circle of rocks gathered years ago and placed there for this moment.
Slowly, carefully, they add a few slightly larger sticks and with a long wooden match the magic begins.
Smoke rising out of orange and yellow and blue flames as the sticks catch fire
Add a couple large pieces of wood and watch. That, too, catches on.
Marshmallows. Chocolate. Graham Crackers.
Laughter. Conversation. Song.
Yes! Please! Give me S’more!
smoke
carries
within it
something
mystical
between
worlds
physical
and
spiritual
as the
candle
is extinguished
smoke rises
adding flame
to it
reignites
the flame
from a distance
may the
Holy Spirit
reignite our
smoke
when others
try to
douse
our flame