The Calling

It’s the first breath of a fresh summer night,
and the heat of the firelight calls out in the dark.
But the one who calls me tonight isn’t the fire —
I am drawn close to you by the pure heart of mine.

The warmth of the fire — you may feel,
but the fire that lights up in you — I may feel.
And the flame before us burns so bright,
then I see the light of your colors.

Simple words and simple feelings — you may feel,
but the blessing that blesses the night — I may feel.
And the dancing flame — we witness its color,
but the call is to me — to witness your colors.

It’s the first breath of a fresh summer night,
when the heat of the firelight warms up the dark.
The fire dances till its end, as nothing lasts,
and I just happen to meet you there and let the moment pass.

… and the night was just complete,
and we were just … perfect.