life is an entropic process
Sputtering sparks burn fingers too close to Lucifer’s tiny torch of light and heat. Settling into a tapered rhythmic pulse, flame engulfs kindling in measured beat.
Sulfur head and wooden body, this match stick is a bit of a metaphor. In life we’re lit for expansive growth. Yet we’re not the match. Much more.
We’re a process; the business of the flame. Slow as rust or over in an explosion. There are lives lived both ways. Life comes down to combustion.
We’re alchemists and accountants. Consumers of matter, producers of heat. Turning matter into energy, while ensuring nothing’s lost on the balance sheet.
Flame will wizen and match extinguish. Dissipating in ever-lesser degree, light and heat emanate outward, becoming part of elsewhere is our legacy.
At least that’s how we’re observed. As consumers more than contributors. Every flame is the same to itself. I am I. We’re only different in the eyes of others.
