Embers and Ice

Embers and Ice

by Katie Huey

The spruce trees sheltering childhood memories burn up into plumes,

wandering far


their roots.

Pine needles turn white. Ashes float eerie, asking to be watched.

The world seems aflame.

After landing, the burned remnants s m e a r black.

Dirty and dark,

on parking lots full,

of cars with nowhere to go.

Winds blow and temperatures drop.

Snow falls. Wet, slushy sleet sent to smother the flames.

Skies turn from purple haze to an orange, premature wintery light.

My anxious spirit waits to be extinguished.

Embers and ice. Both exist. Neither can act alone.

When one ember sparks into two,

then four,

then thousands,

power magnifies.

Same is true of heavy snow.

What will you spark? Will you destroy or bring solace?

Will you roar loudly

or float, spit, or soak ...

calming and cooling our furious hearts?

You have a choice. A beautiful thing.


Featured in our December 2020 issue, "Creation During Covid (Part 2)"