Spark

A tiny spark,

Lays on the hay, floats away,

Over the hills, like a beast,

Growing high, over the trees,

And fights with the wind.

The animals scrambled far, far away,

From their home,

Gone and nowhere to go,

The smell of smoke and dust was toxic,

The blaze was violent,

Finally the fire won the battle, 

It was silent and sickening,

Time stopped and nothing to bare.

Years later a shrub came out of the ash,

Soon thousands followed,

Light shined bright and the land was green,

Blooming flowers, blooming trees,

No more fire to see.