The Fire

The boy watched the fire. It was small, a hesitant spark in the twilight. He fed it twigs, dry grass. It grew, hungry and eager. The wind came, a cold whisper, and threatened to snuff it out. But the boy did not falter. He cupped his hands, shielding the flame. It danced, stronger. Soon a bonfire roared, a defiant beacon against the encroaching dark. From spark to blaze, a simple escalation of hope.

Image by: Ousssama Elhaidi on Pexels