The Hearth of Flame

Do not let my fire fade
into a cautious, cooling light,
where passion dims to measured words
and day forgets the night.

Let not my flame be built on noise
that flickers bright then dies,
but steady as the altar coals
beneath watchful skies.

When comfort tries to quiet heat
and zeal feels out of place,
when rooms grow still with polished calm
and fire slows its pace—

Blow gently on the hidden spark,
stir embers deep within,
till what was faint begins to glow
and burns alive again.

Not strange and wild consuming fire,
not reckless, roaring show—
but holy heat that purifies
and makes the spirit glow.

If I must stand in silent rooms
where colder winds have run,
then let my heart remain alight
like morning with the sun.

And when the world prefers the ash of safe, contained control—
keep living flame within the walls
of my surrendered soul.

Guard it from the creeping cold,
from pride, from fear, from shame -let steeping coals outlast the storm,
a steady, faithful flame.