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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519902" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fire</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519902" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The purling sound <br>Of soft wind in the trees <br>The wonder of the Pneuma<br>That hints of heat in the breeze, <br>The source of the burning bush<br>And the floating dove<br>The true trust ever present <br>In the greatest of pain... <br>And even so in greater love.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519902" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">All that blows so quietly by<br>Is a holy-fire, living and alive, <br>A consuming fire<br>With passion pushed ever higher; <br>It burns and it turns<br>All around and all new<br>Scants of mystery are found <br>In all that is transient and true; <br>It transforms and transcends <br>It burns and it bends...<br>And when it is finished, <br>Nothing old shall be left<br>Of what once was you.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519902" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"> ' Poets are used to discovering, years after a poem is written, what it's really about. ' - Kathleen Norris.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Smoky+Hoss">Smoky Hoss</a></strong></div>

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