Kindling and Firebreaks

Like wildfire,
apathy rarely arrives
unprovoked.
The conditions develop over time:
a long drought,
an atmosphere heavy
with things left to smolder.

Every word spoken,
or deeply neglected,
is a match dropped in dry wood.
Every moment of unworthiness
dries out the forest floor.
The kindling screams for attention,
then falls silent,
allowing the fire to burn.

Whether wild or controlled,
malice and neglect
build the same furnace.

Once the fire rages,
reversal is impossible.
The flames must run their course
until they consume themselves.

Sometimes,
you have to let it all burn down.

Rebirth will find this soil,
but on the slowest clock.
The forest may grow back stronger,
but always a shadow
of what it was.

So it is with us.

We were taught to protect the canopy,
but to save ourselves,
we had to build the firebreak.

Now, the fire runs out of wood.
It waits at the edge of the firebreak,
holding its breath—

waiting to see
if the ones who struck the match
will ever choose
to become the rain.