SMOKE AND EMBERS OR WAS IT BARK?
BY REBECCA ADAMS
I snap to, disoriented. Without opening my eyes for fear of what I might see, I gaspingly cough for oxygen whilst choking on smoke and ashes. Smelling sulfuric smoke, I open my eyes. Oh no! What have I done? Boy, I really did it this time, I think. I’m in a dark so full of nothingness, I fear this is the end. But no. As I clear my vision by blinking my eyes — you know after your eyes adjust to the dark — I see a faint glowing of a distant light. Do I go to the light or is it more fire to burn the rest of who I am? My inner voice says, Go to the light. So I do. My coldness, you know, the chill to the bone cold kind of feeling starts to slowly subside and is warmed inch by inch from fingertips and toes and moving out through my limbs. As I get closer to the light, I find out why it’s an ember in the center of a smoldering pile. I reach it. There is an innate need to touch it. So, I do. Suddenly, I feel energy, a surging powerful energy that whispers, “You have found good soil and have planted good seed and regrowth is beckoning your name. Keep reaching and seeking the light. Your Creator had to put you to the fire to purify you. Ridding you of all that no longer serves life, to give new life to you.”
I felt first, just a few drops and then a whole bunch of purifying raindrops, drenching and quenching this thirsting in my soul. Ring after ring, I stretch my limbs high up to the sky, to the everlasting light. As new bark replaces stone brick walls, that were cold as steel. Light bark is hard on the outside but flexible enough to expand with me as I grow. Not uniting, but lovingly protecting my new life from outside elements and inhabitants who need me as much as I need them. Though the winds howl, and rains pour, I have beauty from the ashes, a spark from the ember that burns and lives inside of me. Forevermore. | RA