Refiner’s fire is not easy to comprehend. Its intensity and purification are only understood by those who have been devastated by fire. I’ve recently seen a fire laid waste to the earth. It was so intense that it consumed all in its path. Worldly things got lost in the flames, but the human spirit never dies….
“And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.”
Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
Overwhelmed by the intense flames,
she cried out His holy name.
Her affliction knew no relief,
soul-searching for her core belief.
Asphyxiated in the choking haze,
she could not escape the inferno’s blaze.
Crackling fears cast unwanted shame,
detachment from her feeble frame
Refiners firestorm seared her flesh,
flawed bonds that had become enmeshed.
In hopeless scenes of misery,
she shouted out for liberty.
The furnace of her own demise,
sacred souvenirs of sacrifice.
A barren land, unholy place,
ghostly landscapes being erased.
In gravesites of ash, hope was found,
germinating through hallowed ground.
Embankments of shame came tumbling down
beneath the ruins, euphonious sounds.
Rising from the embers of ravaged lands,
her sacred self, she came to understand.