Fire

Fire, what is fire?

To people of science and reason, fire is plasma; nothing more than heated gasses emitting light when electrons change shells.

But fire is more.

To the caveman, fire is power. Power which is feared and respected, but also power which can do good. Fire is the tool to cook their food, the way to heat their homes. It is the weapon to scare predators away and the shield against the darkness.

To nature, fire is a great destroyer. It burns down forests, and kills animals; it can block out the sun and poison the water.

To some, fire is a metaphor. It is a symbol representing the abstraction of something else. To some it is determination; to others, hate or rage. Sometimes it is love, or even pure lust.

To me.

To me, fire is life. Fire is an idea, an object with power. Fire can help or fire can destroy. A single fire can keep a hundred lives from a frozen death, or burn so many that the ash falls like snow. The more you fuel it, the faster it burns; and the more you need it the longer it lasts. When you try to kill it before it’s time, it will resist, hissing and smoking until it dies. But fire can live on; one fire can be used to start a thousand more. And even after death, a fire lives on as the aftermath of it’s effects and the heat of the coals, a fleeting memory of what once was.