Green embers burn
at the heart of the hearth;
smoke wafts in an eddy,
higher and higher;
friends and family warm their lungs
on a soft, cloudy night.

My warmth comes from the flame,
coaxing flashes of bygone ashes.
My God is not so conspicuous tonight,
not in this place;
but absence is not what I feel.
I have a glowing fire and a promise
that leads me tonight,
a light that leads me
past endless night.

© Blake Leitch December 3, 2016