Fireplace by Adesina Ajala

Fireplace by Adesina Ajala

I know how to become all I want to be
is by the burning of fire.
Because when fire burns, fire translates.
When fire burns, an aroma, broken like the
Alabaster box, makes God's nose sniff for more.
I am the altar, towering & spreading into
extraordinariness, & like Isaac, the thing for sacrifice.
This is the stability of my devotion, the crux of my becoming.

This, this is how I become: beaten into shapes, changing
into the reflection of Christ like Moses' face on Mount Sinai.
This place of pressing, this threshing floor where I'm both
the altar & the sacrifice.

I come into this place of cold & waning things.
This place, where sin piles up like refuse heap.
I come, wanting the fire of my rival brawl inside
my bowels as the rage of ocean currents.
Come needing to smoulder into the face of the
devil like a thick waft of smoke.

Shall the fire of the Lord not burn on this
ready altar? This heart of broken wood, morning
& evening sacrifices?
Does the fire of the Lord not rush into inflammable
hearts again?
Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the Lord
descended on it in fire.

Rend my heart, Lord, like the jaws of a lion in the clasp
of Samson's hands.
& place the burden of fire upon me, upon my heart on the altar.
Are you not desirous of a sweet smelling savour, Lord?

Let me rise into cramped places like Elijah
All wet skins must smoulder to God on Mt.
Carmel tonight.

Let the coal of fire burn my lips into depths of holiness.
& let the offerings of my lips slay hearts as fire.
Let the cloven tongue of fire Pentecosts on my head & let my
bones crackle with pure fire.
Make my altar burn more than Nebuchadnezzar's heated furnace.
& let every cold heart draw near me for warmth & fire & sun.

Sit upon me like the refiner's fire, Lord. Let dross give way
for all the things that must glisten.
Pour me as a libation to light. A city set on a hill
cannot be hidden.

Let the foxes in my vineyard not escape the dread of fire.
Let the passion inside me not lack the eagerness of fire.
Blow me now, blow me as a whirlwind of fire into all things
tepid & lingering.

Let every heap of ashes crackle down with new fire.
My altar will not be deserted, the business of burning
will never wane on it.
Let the burning of my altar lights other altars into fieriness.
& make this poem an earnest prayer on my lips when my heart
shivers with cold.
Let me always come into this poem for the turf of its torch, let me
always come to the glowing of the fireplace.


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  1. Kai, this poem is a prayer. Well-done AJ

  2. That part of us that wants to remain steadfast to God's will and ...

    Well done!

  3. Welldone Poet. Let the fire burn🔥

  4. olusola oladeji26 March 2022 at 22:59

    Brilliantly woven words on marble!


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