Fire on your path describes the vertical energy of the element of fire. Like in the ritual of the Hindus in which you drop butter on the fire and the air becomes sweet. Like yesterday, when I plucked a tree full of overripe peaches. The moment I stood under the tree I ended up in a fantastic sweet scent. You take it home. It stays in your memory. And if you open a jar of jam, it’s there again.
I climbed a ladder and stood between the hanging branches full of fruit. They grow two by two and are holding tight to the branches of wood. You need to peel them off carefully, without damaging the skin. But unfortunately half is already too far gone, it falls to the ground in sticky heaps. But there is so much and there are no volunteers today to pick them. Or to process. So I grab a wheelbarrow and prune the full branches of the tree. And then you have to select, make choices quickly. What can go, what is spoilage and what is just a bit soft.
There is no time to loose, you must act now. It is summer, the fire is coming straight down from above. It meets the fire below, within yourself and connects you to the center of the earth.
And this is what caring and happiness is all about. And also decay.
The first part of the poem remains in that blissful dream where everything is right and the cycle between earth, sun and moon, mother and child is unbroken.
In the second part, the element of air is added. Air means spoilage. But it also opens doors that were closed. Air smells of freedom. The cycle is broken in favor of consciousness. Of traveling through different realities. Duality arises. Heaven and earth are not naturally in harmony. It’s now no longer just about pro-creation, it’s also about creation. Not about enveloping and securing and shutting out the world. But to break it open. People are challenged to create harmony themselves. And that is culture.
The vertical energy of the fire belongs to the summer. At this moment there is a heightened state of consciousness in which corruption becomes visible. It becomes clear that the golden apple cannot be stolen.