They gather, in hour after sunset. around the fire they assemble;some are friends others are strangers.This moment is somehow delicately intimate and frighteningly unpersonable . The stars shine the world spins and fire burns .
slowly they form small groups. little islands of hopeful dreams bright thoughts shine in the infinite night . the evening breeze's dances through between the branches of the fig tree ; slowly the Breeze awakens the simple flame's Lonely child.
Smoke drifts formless in the night unable to reach these bright islands alone .She cries out unheard by people who gather in her mothers radiant light .with a gust she is no longer alone ;The loving embrace of the wind carries her forward to the islands of hopeful dreams .
Slowly she dances with them. hearing their stories ;they speak of music ,new homes and friends far away slowly she drifts from story to story she listens unseen and unknown a child soon to be forgotten carried off by the one who knows her best; come the morning her mother will be just a passing memory like so much smoke in the wind .
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