It Wasn't Enough

it wasn't enough
you thought,
one hole
in the flesh
cannot hold up
a mural
with frames
of a distant past,
still close
to a faint heart;

it wasn't enough
you thought,
one spark
on a wild
forgotten path
cannot light
a fire
to singe
and burst open
the ripe cones
of a giant sequoia;

it wasn't enough
you thought,
and so
you drilled
many holes,
and gorged out
the taut flesh,
only so I could
hold up
a mural
for others to see
the tears of things
that touch
the mortal heart;

it wasn't enough
you thought,
and so
you set fire
to the whole path,
only so I could
walk through
the rising flames
to become
the fire
that warms
frost-bitten feet
and trembling fingers
too scared to touch
the warmth
of their own hearts.

it wasn't enough
you thought,
but it was.


~ I dedicate this poem to a dear friend who held my hand and made me see that the fire that I thought burned me, was the spark that lit me up to light up my own life and perhaps that of many others.~