Beneath Love’s Flame — a poem

Simon Heathcote
Nov 2 · 1 min read
Photo by Vadim Sadovski on Unsplash

Under the hot griddle of
Love’s flame, I was roasted,
Died and burnt again,
The sun it came and
Scorched my earth, the debris
Detritus from birth,
A karmic residue of time’s
Long life, an inheritance from
Ancestors‘ direst plight
A gift, a perpetuated pain
Things we should never see again,
But back and back they went
Until our burning, heaven sent,
Took us down to bone and soul.

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Simon Heathcote

Written by

Psychotherapist writing on the human journey for some; irreverently for others; and poetry for myself; former newspaper editor. Heathcosim@aol.com

Literally Literary

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