I went camping last weekend, and it was cold when I decided to build a fire. Ever wondered why people say that…that you need to build a fire? Try starting a fire in the cold without lighter fluid, and you’ll understand.
You can’t light a log or a brick on fire with a match, but houses still burn down. How? Fires always start small…and then they build.
I isolate some dry leaves from the wind and add a flame. The fire almost dies, but I quickly add several twigs and some more leaves. Tiny embers smolder. I add straw, then slightly bigger sticks, and then make a tepee of logs over the flame. More twigs and leaves and bigger sticks until the logs finally catch. Then I let the wind in, and the fire roars.
As I stared into the flames, I knew I’d seen the likes of this someplace before. Lust is like this. Any kind of lust for any kind of thing. Isolation. A tiny spark. A harmless flame. A controllable fire. And then the house burns down. Here it is again in poetry:
– Flame –
Lust is a fire built upon straw
Till the forest is withered and the redwoods are raw.
Bricks may withstand the starting flame,
but there’s a ladder of leaves to every name.
So take not for granted the smallness of things
when a fury of heat the slightest spark brings
and melts even stone, the consummate lust
Sending ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Don’t take for granted the smallness of things.
