Stoke the Red

What do you do upon waking up one morning to find your northern world turned winter white,

Wondering, quietly over a pre-dawn mug of tea,

If in your pursuit of peace—all unruffled serenity and communion with silent mountains—

Has been at the expense of passion?

It’s been so long since you felt red in this gigantic, pristine white,

You almost forgot you missed it.

Stop what you’re doing; put down the mug;

Seek the Red immediately.

That fierce, hot, southern thing that won’t be frozen into stillness.

The wild woman who lives inside the wise one.

Take some moments to stoke the red—me? I seek music, the kind that is flounce-filled, foot-stomping, with flames that lick my fingers—

One song leads to the next; something is leading me on, click, click, click.

And I feel that inner gallop in my veins

That stirring, that heating, that happens from

Refusing to forget

That the part of us that sinks into peace

Is the same part of us that burns.

- by Amely Greeven

Jackson resident Amely Greeven started out as a fashion journalist, became a health and wellness author, and now writes about spirituality and the sublime. Find her at www.thereishopeinbeauty.com.