EXERCISE Different Perspectives: Wildfire!

Discussion in 'REFINING WRITING' started by Cammybatty, Jun 8, 2014.

  1. A raging fire, out of control. Feared by all. Sprouting questions as well as flames.

    How did it begin? Where will it spread? How can it be controlled? What is driving it? Is it helping, or destroying? Now it is your turn to answer these questions, for YOU are the fire.
  2. As the Children sing and dance around me I cannot help but to be filled with joy, could this truly be my purpose? I am bringing warmth and joy to others, they will surely take me with them everywhere they go, and I will never have to burn out again. As I Roar and hiss, the children laugh and the others sit warmly around me, I burn for love and I burn with such a powerful purpose I never want to recede back into the earth where I once settled dormant and alone. As the children calm and the others kiss them goodnight, they say their goodbyes and As I feel sad that they will rest for the night, I will remain, I will keep them warm tonight, So that maybe if they leave, they will take me too...

    "Don't worry, it's just a little flame...."

    It was only a quiet whisper at the time, something I had heard in the back of my head, maybe it was just some kids in the woods, maybe it was a misplaced cigarette, or perhaps even the sun's unbridled fury that had started the slow ascent of power that I now hold over this land. I'm not sure if it is the will to prove them wrong, or just my instinctive nature, maybe all I am made to do is destroy, I am used for many different things. I keep the cold at bay, I can cook meals, and even bring spirits up when the road seems to end. But this, this is something else entirely, I am given something that no sentient thing should be allowed, Power.

    With this small amount of carelessness and allowance to grow, I have this one chance to remind everyone of what I am, This one chance to prove that I'm no just 'A little Flame' I will roar, and I will steal what people hold dear, and they will remember, and fear my name, for I am a WildFire, And I want nothing more than any other thing would want. Don't Forget, And should you ever look back to remember, I will leave a scar on this place. I am a Wildfire, And you will never forget.

    As I look back at the world that once was, I think back to what could have simply have been a beautiful night under the stars, but they left me, I was left again by the others, I want so badly just to be with them, As I approach their homes they run, and if I continue to follow they curse me for the damage I cause to their homes. Don't they realize? Why can't they see? I only wish to be like them, I want them to dance and I want them to feel the joy they once felt, I am capable of bringing love and happiness, why do they run when I come to them? I don't understand, they send giant metal birds to drop water on me, it hurts, but I think maybe they think I want to hurt them, How can I show them different?

    #2 Hikadu, Jun 8, 2014
    Last edited: Jun 8, 2014
  3. A spark, that's how I started. A single itty bitty teeny weeny spark flicked from the end of a cigarette.

    Dry grass, that's how I grew. Hidden in the brown deadness sheltered by the wind from a fallen tree trunk.

    Dead wood, that's what I fed on. Growing, stretching, reaching, and consuming until I had all I needed to continue rise. the grey tendril of smoke from my head the only indication to anyone I was here.

    Untended undergrowth, that's how I spread. Humans, ha, in their determination to put out every single one of us they failed to realize the good we do. The dead foliage had piled up, and I devoured it as I ran my path, laughing with the wind and carried by it across the barren stretch they call a road.

    An entire forest, that's how much I destroyed. Even the wetness of living growth wasn't enough to stop my raging inferno. My heat even evaporated the rain.

    Starvation, that's how I will die. When there's nothing left to consume I'll whittle away into smoke and be gone.

    A scar on the land, that's how i'll be remembered. From the ashes of the destruction I left behind new life with grow. new green against the old, a fitting reminder.
  4. To remember what it was to be but an ember. An ember and nothing more. Mmmm, how I craved to be more than a coal almost forgotten beneath wet tinder and log. I would teach them, for dousing what I know I should have been. Now I grow, consume and feast with my insatiable appetite; it was soon my lust too would be as vibrant as my light reflecting on the clouded night sky. It was brilliant to know my reflection bore to the heavens and lit them as the great fire of the sky would from so far away. The tinder turned to tree and the tree turned to a forest. Beyond the cackle of my tendrils feasting away, turning bark to char and soil to ash, I would find solace in the cries of the forest and its denizens; I savored each and every whimper before I snuffed it out with my glory. Even as day broke, I stretched into the sky, hot smoke and ash left news of my appetite so all would know I was coming.

    Though I found my path hindered by the same denizens of this world, with their water and feeble attempts to slay my unquenchable thirst for more and more. It was foolish to try and stop me now, for nothing would stop me as I wished to consume it all. It was with this notion I felt I'd stretched for so long I could not find where it was I'd started, but it was of no consequence, for I knew not where I was going. Only the path of fuel led me, consuming those mimic structures, shaped from tree but molded my man. I laughed at it with great fiery bursts as I busted their glass and mangled their possessions with my awesome presence.

    I taught them. Yes, a teacher is what I am and will always be. I will bless them with my tendrils and sear them so they may understand their mistake to control me.
    For I am the inferno and I am infinite; looks upon me and satiate my endless appetite.
  5. Brightness. Brightness in the dark can be seen. It shines weakly, flickering uncertainly. With tender curiosity the tendril of flame emerges. Blind it gropes. All is void. Void of heat and spark, yet so much tinder beckons. Now it begins.


    The wind blows strong, shouting in defiance at the peace of the night. In its arm it bears the newborn into the world, nurturing it with fierce and unpredictable care. The world embraces it and provides it food. Waxing proudly the brightness grows, pushing back the dark in triumph. The trees beckon, wordlessly outstretching their arms. Mightily the flame climbs, learning much as it seeks the sky.

    Kindle. Burn. Ignite the passion found in reducing things to ash. Roar with wild abandon and think not of turning back.

    The night smiles as the forest succumbs to the rage of the blaze. Now chaos reigns.

    Smoke travels with the wind to tell this great tale. The tale of brightness with small beginnings who fought the dark and prevailed. Now all things die.

    The mighty flame wanes. It has fought well. All has been consumed.

    Darkness suffocates the flame as it shrinks, bearing it to its end. Defiantly, the flame clings to life, glowing weakly in the depth of that blackness. Letting out its last breath, the flame releases an ember into the sky. Twirling playfully, that beacon soars into oblivion.

    As you sit by the fire, if you listen close, you will hear my story in crackling speech.

    I am the flame that hopes. I am the flame that dreams. I am the flame that never gives up. I am the flame that will be remembered.
    I am inside us all.