Newborn, fierce, a struggle of terror,
Terror pulling at its heart,
Pulling it up, pulling it out,
Reaching with hands and tongues that die without more terror,
It must survive, consuming,
Lust for life,
A desperate reaching, driving, on and out,
Knowing if it doesn’t touch it dies:
Oh, terror is a beautiful thing to behold,
So strong, so desperate, vibrant, life -
I cannot watch it die and feed it just enough
To keep it tamed, raw fingers grasping,
Caged …
The venom in its song would eat me in a whisper,
Pouncing like a crab or spider -
And still it tries to lure me in,
Those many eyes glinting, lies,
‘Come closer, come here … ‘
Cleverly done, but I am more clever,
And feed it less until it cries out for more …
Subdued, its terror tamed, closed in,
It holds itself now in a little heat,
Unwilling to lose its small full meal
Which is its life,
And I bask now in its tamed warmth,
We have an understanding -
I feed it, she smiles, chuckles,
Bursts out small lies,
Loves me,
But underneath there lurks a monster,
Waiting to leap out and CONSUME !
19/9/99
Feeding a camp fire with wood, knowing that given the opportunity that fire would leap out in a rage and consume everything it could
