"Spin" in aviation training: a "stall" or loss of lift, a subsequent nose-down spin, the specific actions required for recovery, and the feeling, after recovery, that you could tackle absolutely anything!

Tuesday, 3 January 2012

Delight's Fire.

I know I am here.
I do.
I have seen footsteps in the snow that have told me so.
I have spit steam from my breath, evidence of a beating heart.
And tonight, a brave shadow on the snow; gift of a
Crisping moon.
That's the thing of winter;  all else is quiet,
No interruption to reflection,
So when I find myself, all under my brim,
Drunk with the quiet and the 
Clean, cold edge of the air,
I gaze, undistracted, at the moon, stars, and  struggle to
Figure how to burn that brightly.
"How can I tag in?  Get on their map?"
Not for us.  I know, I know.
Instead, our fires burn within; mine,
Hidden magnitudes of young despair
Dampened so as not to disrupt, finally burst to molten,
Razing facades and defenses to
Thick, painful embers,
When all I want is to be full and choked with
Robust flames of delight.

I know I am here.
I do.
I have felt the pain and weight of steep decision.
I have soothed troubled waves of anger and longing,
Evidence of a seeking heart.
No longer a fool, I expect no league with the moon, 
But frankly use her tender shine as reminder of 
Dormant, vibrant, and all in the margins.
Shame on those whose fires languish for
Lack of intent or gut.
I would not trade my embers earned for any 
Hollow ease.
I can claim my footsteps.
I deserve my steam,
And one day, with diligence's promise, I will
Radiate delight's fire to a magnitude
Worthy of star's queries;
"How can we tag in?
How can we get on her map?"


  1. Oh goodie, another choice one for my collection. Love this, it's a tingler. Love and spit steam,

  2. So many nice, relatable moments in here Suz. I've felt many of the same under my own brim. Once again, your work gets better, sharper and crisper with every writing. Brilliant, my dear.