Newborn , fierce, reaching,
With hands and tongues that die without more food,
A beautiful thing to behold,
So strong, so desperate, vibrant,
It must survive, consuming,
Lust for life,
A desperate reaching, driving, on and out,
Knowing if it doesn’t touch it dies:
I cannot watch it die and feed it just enough
To keep it tamed,
Raw fingers grasping,
Caged -
The venom in its bite would eat me in a whisper,
Pouncing like a crab or spider:
It tries to lure me in,
Those many eyes glinting lies,
‘Come closer, my little one,
Come here –’
Cleverly done, but I am more clever,
And feed it less until it cries out for more -
Subdued, full on an empty stomach,
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
This little poem is about feeding a camp fire with wood, knowing that given the opportunity the fire would leap up in a rage and consume everything it could
