Coda: A Spark in the Ashes

"In every ending waits the seed of flame."

Ash scatters on the wind,

but not all is lost.

One coal lingers,

red as memory,

quiet as breath,

holding what words cannot.

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The trees bend near,

their bark still warm

from the hymn of flame.

They whisper through smoke,

what is gone is not gone,

for the soil remembers

the vow of fire.

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I kneel,

and the ember rests in my palm.

It hums with patience,

fragile as the pause

between heartbeat and silence.

Its glow binds the night—

not as blaze,

but as promise.

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Even in ending,

the ember carries forward.

It waits for breath,

for wind,

for root,

for time.

It waits to be flame again.