THE SPARK OF A FLAME

What is so damn special about this fire that inside myself burns that they want to put it out but can't trust me. Over the years, many have taken their turns, and all of us had our lessons learned. I held the books of their religions. They could not see the pages filled with my magic calling the trials of my journey tragic.

The bridges are burning, and I am holding the matches container while learning that I am no longer sleeping inside the lions and with each. Plotted course, I have found the courage to walk among them.

I have walked among beggars and thieves. Making the devil shake his head while making god believe I have shooked hands with kings and queens but never bowing to take a knee. The walks I remember the most are those with my grandfather and grandmother's ghost.

What is so special about my damn fire? I ask my ancestors when they come to me in my dreams, waking me with their banshee screams saying you carry the flame of the family name. Now you are waking the dead with the words in your heart that we now want to be displayed.