fire spirit

Days this week are marked with fire.  Fire in the camp.  Can we make fire?  Carrying fire.  The tinder bundle of straw and sage can hold an ember.  You can walk away and take fire with you.  Carry a fire horn.  No matter where I am in the wilderness, fire travels.  Aster planetes  follow, too, with their far away fire.  I am the wanderer who must curl up in the wickiup.  A warm summer night with fire, I keep strolling through the forest.  This land may become an earthen galley between a sea of trees and stars.  I will keep moving with my fire horn.  We are on some ancient ocean floor littered with arrowheads and fossils. (Yucatan)  I carry the fire.  Sweet grass scent.  The porcupine quills.  A night out with the land can be meaningful, spiritual.  I write a pantheists dream again and again.  Settle.  Did we settle this land?  Hierochloe odorata.  Hieroglyphs are tattooed on the rock walls.  Mother Earth's hair grows here.  Smudging the memory of streets and towns.  Smudging the memories of money.  Grow wild here.  Go wild here.  Leaves and trees mind here.  Walk down the native stairways of rock and earth.  Climb the vines.  Water flows there.  Sap flows, too.  But we need fire to make it.  Shelter, sustenance, stories.  We weave nets with milkweed.  Yucca.  We have skull broth and eyeball stew.  We have to cook our food.  Fire brings stories.  Many men traveled here.  We don't need asphalt.  We don't need machines.  Carry fire, find water.  Summer path spirit highways, we follow.  Earth roads to manna.  What fire brings to our spirit.  Fotia fos.