Reflections by the Fire

Man thinking in front of fire

By the flickering fire's glow, a man in contemplation sits alone, Amidst the crackle and the warmth, a silent cabin his reflective zone. Each log he places with care and thought, akin to nurturing love sought, A parallel of flame to heart, where tending's art is subtly taught.

He muses on the flames that leap, how love too is a fire deep, Requiring time, care, to keep, a vigil that one must not sleep. For as the fire needs its fuel, and careful hands to rule, So does love need attention, patience, not to cool.

In the dance of sparks that fly, he sees the gleam of love's reply, A steady flame that does not die, but grows with every sigh. For every ember glowing bright, a testament to love's own light, A warmth that in the coldest night, holds him tight, makes the dark alright.

The fire's warmth spreads through the room, dispelling shadows, dispelling gloom, A metaphor for love's own bloom, that from the smallest spark can loom. He understands, as flames ascend, that love, like fire, will bend, Adapt and change, its shape amend, but with care, will not end.

So by the hearth, he reflects on love, its parallels with the flames above, How nurturing, with gentle shove, can make it soar, fit like a glove. In solitude, by fire's side, his heart open, wide, Embracing what the flames confide, in love's tide, he'll abide.