A House of Boundless Recreation

The sky is parched as powder, blue as a cotton dress that slurs whispered syllables as delicate feet beneath its train carry it along halls of fragrant pine, which house lustrous floors of cedar.  
 
All the earth is limned with an illumined corona of brilliant breath. All these scents commingled in effluvient heights of ascendant air, bequeathed of beneficent stars, which ring with tones of living light.  
 
Just beyond the genial umbra of day, stretches the torrential sway of perpetual night.  
 
In a house of boundless recreation, my enclosed breath falls with a fervor of weighted fists, only to resurrect, rise like inspired hands of choirs and pure songs of praise, which carry the gift of now into the promise of morrow.  
 
About my scalene brow, morning frost has wreathed a crown of cold. About my burning breastplate, a corona of turbulent temperature trembles with unspent anima.  
 
This auburn winged serpent I am, spits furious fire on twinned tongue of forked lightning, in whose dualed births are found passion and compassion both, grappling within the grasp of its other.  
 
Clutches a musty ledger of bygone years, draws droplets of wisdom on tips of taloned fingers from the rivers of salt tears that pour like ceaseless seas from the gaze of these brown endorheic rift lakes.  
 
A House of Boundless Recreation  
By  
Daniel Christensen  
Writing as  
The Fire Elemental

Copyright © 2017 by Daniel Christensen. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.