"firewood" (the blaze)

you once stood
young and vibrant,
watching over the landscape,
but age took its toll,
and one final year
you fell,
 
gathered up,
your arms and legs  
were folded and stacked,
brought inside,
you were placed
into your crypt,
 
we sat in front of you,
the funeral pyre
acknowledged your life
as your soul slowly burned,
your whispers
leapt out and teased the cold
around us,
with one last touch
you pleased the night.