There’s something perfect about sitting by a fire while the wind rustles leaves and the world quiets down. The freeway rumbles a few miles away and if you wait for it, in the stillness of the blackest time of night, the train’s whistle faints near the ocean.
Laughter echoes in the twilight; smiles glow in the firelight. But as I close my eyes and dream, my thoughts wander to a place under different stars. To safe arms; wanton eyes; a smile reflecting my own.
Embers escape from dying logs and I dream of escaping from here. Someday I’ll float away, too, when the wind carries me back to you.
Smoke dances with the wind while the fire flickers, dying as the night carries on. The dreams in my heart still burn with the strength of a wild fire. I am no longer here where the train whistles by the Pacific. My heart– like embers in the wind– is carried away, and I’m with you. Safe, free, home.
Hannah Ruthie Writes 