Element of Fire

Dear Ones. I am writing this as Winter is well and truly settling in. At least it should be. Climate change is changing the meaning of “winter” for me. And the more insistent changes of my own body are changing how I experience the cold. Today’s draft is inspired by my changing relationship to temperature. It’s a rough-rough draft, barely even in the same room as coherence. Some days, it’s good to just put the words down, let them burn, and see if the ashes tell me anything.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedIt strikes me all at once,as my skin grows damp anda red flush crawls up into my hairline:My elements are changing. Formerly an Earth sign,rooted cool underneath,I am now the element of fire. I spark from a deep relaxed sigh,or standing up,or reaching across to straighten up the tablecloth.Your myths say Prometheus brought the gift of firefrom some careless god or other,but I know different.As soon as the first woman looked at her daughter,recognized the trail of generations that had started,the element of fire was there --changeable, crone-tended,inevitable and unreal as time itself.