Deah Caldwell Poetry

I caught a heat wave in my soul
and watched it spread throughout my bones.
It began blazing wild, but in control,
harnessed by nose-in-tomes.
Soon, I spit fire from my lips,
hoping to set my world ablaze.
Clinching fists & tightening grips,
many held a deficit in their gaze.
I wanted the world to fall in line,
but that’s not the way revolutions occur.
Only sturdy bodies have strength-in-spine
to dance with fire and outlast winter.
‘Cause revolutions maintain trajectories,
spinning circles around flaming spheres
forcing each season’s retreat & parry
into the supernova years.
The endeavor of harnessing your Sol
is daring, and it is bold,
especially if you can keep on track
and never catch the cold.