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Silence… The stray ember fell upon the dry ground like the flaming feather of the fire bird. A small light in the dark of the forest. The small passion, to the naked eye, hit the ground and seemed as if it would fade into the abyss of the unknown, never to return, shine, or bring warmth to the world.
But in it’s suffering eloquence, the small passion’s light revved in the dark with the wind’s passing; the wind, not even aware of the small passion it fueled with its flow.
Before all falling of silence, a bushel noticed the passion. Curiosity and intrigue overwhelmed the bushel, and with the aid of the wind, reached to touch the passion.
Silence fell once again… but soon to be interrupted by crackles and snaps… Passion now flowed throughout the forest…consuming all curiosity…