The first oxygen goes to feed the fire
that flames in the heart of us;
that flares our gaze out beyond
the near business of day to day.
Like the bonfire
which begins its own round grave,
the center goes first into coals,
then cinders, then smoking dust,
a crater ringed by useless fuel.
Burn from the outside in,
let the flesh go first and leave
nothing bur spirit to ignite
your glowing soul to supernova
o glorious cosmos!
before the last collapse into that darkness
from which all light is born.
Patrick Meadows 1934 – 2017.