I am made of red brick, with a smoke patina
from when I decide to belch smoke back into the house
just for fun.
The girl in this house, she loves me.
She loves to lay on the floor, watching the colors in the fire.
Sometimes adding little wax color pots, she makes in egg cartons,
made from the sealing wax for canning, discarded after opening home canned jams.
They give my fire the colors of the rainbow. She likes Turquoise and Yellow best!
There are no chairs in the room for children to sit on.
Children aren’t really welcome here.
I suck all the negative energy out of the house
when she builds a fire, which is often.
She focuses on the fire, me…
Loses all connection, to what is going on in that room.
Nothing there anyway.
No eye contact, dialog, or touch for her.
Just people. No connection.
She feels unwanted. Yet when there is a fire…
She feels connection, feels belonging…
To fire, to water, to wind, to the animals, to nature, to the earth.
Now moved out of state, and with many years in recovery,
She belongs to herself, with her family of choice, and to
fire, water, wind, animals, nature, and the earth. And recovery!
She belongs.