Flames to the Center

Poem for Saturday and a World on Fire

Flames to the Center


seeing the flames collapse
                   my mind began to wander 
to a full moon       perched just outside           the spire 
                            my floating    
                  window 

—I had no signature                   ( my mind )
                   a vast 
cathedral                  with air blowing     through 
the center              to wilderness—

no relief in that moon or
in the fallen angels left
to play 
in  mitochondrial 
dust 

a   small   delicate   thought                                snakes a perfume veil 
           over my face—                      

I AM 

Longing for G_d and for a life
                            where the impossible is indelibly stained 
             on restrained yet agile 
                             heroes                               







Max Wolf Valerio; April 17, 2019; Rev. March 13, 2026

Fire in a city of orbs

I’ll “see” you again soon. Create, even in a world of threats and confusion — art clarifies and energizes and — makes new.

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