Poetry: Campfire Memories

I: A scientist is someone who endlessly studies the facts, the "why" and "how".

II: An artist is someone who translates their world for others to experience.

III: Both often experience infinite curiosity.

IV: Sometimes one is both a scientist and an artist.

V: Forever searching out the "why"s, and blending their mind to create something others will understand.

VI: Most just want to be seen and understood, as this artist does.

VII: Enter the world and mind of a transmasc nonhuman living in a human body.

VIII: Please understand that all found herein is subject to interpretation.

IX: May your world be the richer for peering through these strange and intense glasses.

As fog blankets the earth,

and morning drizzle dampens spirit,

early buses thunder past,

lingering scent of smoke remains.

There, last night, fire was lit

around it much joy and mirth

the fire was put out at last,

and people went down their separate lanes.

Now all that's left is gone

ashes are damp, cold, and grey,

the memories seem to slowly fade,

as breezes blow the lingering smoke,

and under those cold coals they'll lay

until at last there breaks a dawn,

to which the sun was bade.

Sun that this morning clouds choke.

Then again I'll gaze into flames,

and laughter will rise high.

All memories will return

as flowers in the flames bloom,

and together sparks and smoke meet sky,

while the light plays chasing games.

Good food is passed where'ere you turn,

and smiling on all, the rising moon.

A Flittering Flame