Rely on these other hills
Either side of the chasm.
We had a nice campfire that night, although I was still afraid of attracting our new found friends. The campfire was very romantic for me (and even a little mystical) because I took smoldering embers from a vacated campsite to start wood I had collected. Bob blew on it and got it burning with pretty dancing tongues of flame. It felt good to start a fire that way. It symbolized continuity for me; again a lot like our improvisations where one movement or sound causes the next.
The fire also made me feel sad. I knew we would have to go back to our life of endless errands and worries. There is a blaze of joy in me right now from our Novena. The embers will hopefully stay with me for the rest of my life to be rekindled when ever I am willing to take the time to feed them fresh fuel and blow on the flames. I was very impressed when Bob got the fire going by blowing on it. I didn't realize how easy it was.
By sharpness things are brought to life,
Completed, and scattered abroad.
But not two.
That is fire.
This is fire.
This fire has been projected from that fire.
When this fire merges with that fire,
All that remains is fire.