The log swells; turgidity pushed to its limits. Wood cracks and splits as boiling water expands and forces steaming vapor up and out. Rather than dampen the fire, moisture is overcome by heat and the frenzy only increases with the struggle; heat and humidity achieve a perfect balance and drive the fire on. With each crackling pop of wood, glowing embers are kicked up and spread the flames further.

You rise from this molten fracas, a living angel of death, born from the exploding vitality of the flames, wood, and water. The life and death of each component part is too mixed up in the others’ to tell where one begins and the next ends. Each one’s death propels the life of the next in a seemingly endless chain, each a link in the chain of another.

The growing column of rising smoke and vapor jets you up and out like a fountain, and as you rise from the red roiling sea your horizon widens. Cast on the wind you and your siblings burn brilliant rain down upon the surrounding brush. Before winking out of being you see the cellular mosaic of fire spreading into its new fuel, and you wonder where is the line between life and death, the frontier of your being?

You laugh at how small you had been, tears of fire ooze from the charred flake that remains of you.  You cry at the beauty of experience.

An exploration of how we can rise above duality and perceive the absolute. 

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