Heroes

There used to be flame -> white blue orange licks kicking high....like holiness, I was different then. My heroes were existent, non-ethereal, GPS trackable - Women of Warrior Ways who championed the underdog rise, foes vanquished always....Mighty Men "Melachim" mirroring King David's 3 pillars, iron walls whose shade formed bronze battalions around all who formed collective around them always....proud Kings and Queens upon whose countenance played the deepest rhythmic riffs of ancestral lineage; they could do no wrong. My heroes came always to bless -> to destroy and then rebuild. I shouldered them, palanquin sky touching dreamy landscapes like a Chinese junk navigating foreign-man fogs and currents; I was chief sentinel bearing the brutal and perennial pain of hardship, poverty and toil. If only to carry you, sing your clan's praise, to be down....then my loss was gainful.

My esoteria speaks something new, different as I was then. Fires wane as graying coals cast shadows that now conceal their likeness....silhouettes gone ghost...the world is wept, the days of Mothra, Mother Teresa and Moses are only remembered. Humaness comes to betray the infallible who don flesh, breathe air and will eventually lie asleep....only one flame persists > it is humble, but it is bold - it dares to speak light where lies devastate, it dares to speak hope where entanglement and corruption preside, it ignites fuel incrementally never yielding carbon and it will eventually own your whole garden, it burns but heals....irresistible, irrevocable, unyielding....this flame is possibility, a trust-again fire lick, a lingering reality....God is.