Fire: A poem by Jayashree Pillai

The smoke spirals upwards – grey pillars that scorn the
Bits of flint
That bore them,
Spurred on by heady flames
That dance drunkenly
In the breeze.
The flints burn – so do the
Charcoal bits and dry grass blades
That feed the flames
They die –
Along with the millions
That the enraged flames choose
To kill.
And yet I have seen fire
Soothe the trembling heart
In the midst of
A fearsome darkness.
Its ambiguity intrigues me