In the forge

I lived within the heat of love -
That honey metal glow in the hearth,

Those marvellous sparks.

I followed the wild amber of the heart -
Singeing parts of me 
That should have turned
With the burning of my finger tips.

Wanting is molten.
It still is.

But wisdom is being the fire
And the blacksmith. 

LJ Ireton 2023