open fires

 I miss open fires
the ambience of winter in an old house
The smell of wet wood
 waiting in old wheelbarrows.

I miss the fire fairies
the burnt rug from a stray spark
the colours of flames
The white coals hot

I miss the meditation 
the stares of past lives
of old bonfires and stories
of old Gods in battle

I miss the time
slow time staring at the flames
darkness and light
I miss its simplicity