Footprints in Ash

[oak hollow]

Once, he was a boy who mapped fire—
his fingers sketching flame into the air,
believing sparks were stars he could arrange
into constellations of permanence.
He spoke in ember,
Dreamed in coal,
and thought the world would burn just for him.

But time is a patient river,
and it floods even the burning baseball field.
The lava’s whisper that once carved his name into the bark
now curls like paper, delicate and done.
His eyes, once kindling, become silver confessions
reflecting everything he cannot hold.

Now, he maps the pause where god listens.
He measures absence with a steady hand,
reads the wrinkles in old wind like scripture.
And though his flames are gone,
he still walks forward
leaving footprints in ash
that bloom into wildflowers
when no one is looking.

[real current]

@oak hollow has sent a notification! - @dark musk @red acorn

[red acorn]

I will read it later🫂💙