Her Name Means Wild

The nights are now chilly but the campfire keeps me warm. As I sit watching the fire, hues of red, orange, and yellow scorch wood into ashes. Burning, burning.

Come fall, come and bring all your reminders. It’s a season to let go and swiftly tumble away with no worry or care. Those bright magnolias wither, taking the warm summer days and that cool august breeze. The sweet memories of the sun fabricating this Asian glow all coming to an end. All I held as a chasm in my bones. The comfort, the warmth, the familiar. Aren’t those the very reasons we struggle to let go? So long, dear one. So long.

There is a girl, braver than I, wiser. She doesn’t fear what’s ahead, she embraces it. She tumbles the earth with the leaves and dances to the rhythm of your melody. I looked before me, seeing brilliance in the trees. The leaves are now the color as the flames of my soul. The trees weren’t dead. They are alive much like you and I. As the fire continues to burn, I say “no more”. There is sweetness in the memory of your glow dear one. Now it is time for an October stroll. Burn fire, burn, I need you to keep me warm and watch me step into a whole new world.