Sten Russell

Strange Fire

As I enter that holy room Blue flame licks the very walls And crawls along the floor.

Love is everywhere. . . . in every form. It glows . . . . is hot

Then cold. . . . then warm.

Bewitched cats dance . . . . mad with joy. They pirouette in space

And chase their tails.

Strange fire they cannot touch; This love is overmuch For them.... for us.

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