The following poem is a reflection on Screaming Fire, a Fourth of July poem written by Chandler Hamby.
Fire Screaming in the Sky
There are times when one observes what is around one,
and one sees much more than eyes have seen,
when in the midst of seeming joyous celebration,
one’s heart begins to flag, one’s joy to fade,
when the beauty of exploding fiery patterns,
the music fit for bravely marching armies,
and the words of proud and patriotic exultation
fail to fill the blackness of the darkness of the soul,
and only serve as highlights in the looming blackness.
In times like that a poet may be moved to write,
may attempt description of the beauty of the show,
may want to speak of the brightness then attempted,
but one’s heart is drawn to pierce beyond that veil,
to see the blackness and the bleakness of the shadow,
to sense the falseness of the wild display,
to cringe without full knowledge in its presence,
and to speak what one does not know that one is speaking.
In times like these the poet’s muse is active,
speaking through the cracks between one’s words,
and truth, even when one has not quite heard it,
flows from undetected depths within one’s person,
speaking with a still small voice within another heart,
and I have heard those quiet words that have been spoken,
and as the colors fade away to darkness,
those words are resonating in my soul.