Robert Neumark Jones

Fire, foremostly.

                both furnished and fed from the sound of your voice;
       a melody call
to concentrate.
                Nothing captures the hungry eye
       like a flame does.
We all dream of creating our own fire
Within our control: Sorcerers of the power within slumber, outside space, throughout ideas.

But – we do not make fire
               It bursts in on us.



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