The Pit.

I tried to start a fire

In the pit, I saw the obscurity of black with the hint of white, 

I saw the bark of burnt trees and shrivled up plastic.

Most of all,

I saw ashes.

I tried.

I tried to start the fire.

I protected the lighted match from the whisper of mother nature

by cupping my hand around it

as I slowly lowered my hands 

to a flesh of wood.

The wood did not find the flicker of heat enchanting.

or attractive.

So I tried again

and again

and again.

You see,

My grandmother had asked me to start the fire.

Although she had an oven and a stove,

she prefers to cook outside.

And I tried.

I realized

I had an army of sticks

with dead tips.

But I was persistent at my attempt to start the fire.

FInally, the spark caught on.

WIth a piece of carton, I began to fan at the igniting wood.

There's smoke.

I cough.

My eyes burn.

There's the baby light,

and then it dies.

In the background I hear laughter of a wise woman

she giggles at me

how foolish do I feel.

She walks over to help

She caresses the match and hands it to me.

As I lower it gently.

She fixes the wood and I see

that these troubles were just a sense of rearranging the notes already built-in the soul.

The fire starts.

I only had to fix the wood.

The flesh that I have.

See, now,

I am reliant upon technology that I forget the beauty of nature.

Everyday, I try to acknowledge the whisper earth gives.

When that fire slowly spread,

Man, that was beautiful.

My hands were dirty

But that didn't matter.

The flames looked so happy

they danced.

That's the light of the darkness.

The darkness 

of a previously dead fire.

In a pit of ashes of black with a hint of white,

I saw the flames of happiness and hope.

Like starting a fire.

Life is rough

and tough

and you cough

and your eyes burn.

But people help out.

But you have to believe in yourself and be persistent.

Start the fire.

Something that was once dead, is alive.

And soon, 

this fire will die.

I don't know when, but it will happen at its own pace.

Then people will see a pit of ashes of black with a hint of hope.

They will know, something beautiful once danced there.

You tried.

You make it.

You did it.

You have made it so far. 

And the pit of black ashes 

Once rearannged, 

is a beautiful pit that can reveal your heart.