Published January 15th, 2025
by Emily Arnold-Fernández
The first gift: mundane,
fascinating, used for death
rituals and cooking.
We speak in fire.
Our blazing bonfires
call forth fertility or
cry warning. I burn,
a lover pleads, a poet's star
proclaims, a corpse sighs.
Some say fire is alive,
by certain definitions.
It eats, and grows, and
propagates. In California, we
settlers fear the fire season:
Pain, loss, death, heartbreak.
For our Ohlone hosts,
fire was the land's
rebirth: Sacred renewal.
But they too had burn
remedies. And we too strike
sparks: In darkness, light.
Prometheus, our first
luminary, thought it worth
Dying endlessly.
Softly, in stillness,
we bring it into being:
Warmth, light, cheer, calm.
Around the fire, we tell
the story: Prometheus
thought us all –
settlers, first peoples, all
humanity – worthy of dying
each day for eternity.
About the Poet
Emily Arnold-Fernández resides in Portnahaven, Isle of Islay, Scotland.
Read the poet's biography on Emily Arnold-Fernández's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Poetry World #11,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in Edinburgh Poetry Magazine:
Farewell Juniper Green
by Stuart McFarlane
Edinburgh Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
- Visit the main Wax Poetry and Art Submissions Page to see all opportunities.
- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
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