Firestorm in Two Parts

Dense, abundant greenery spreads roots deep, in soil tossed, turned and packed by ancestors and ages,

massive oaks and scrubbly brush intertwined with edges of tiny flowers and frail wild orchids, ferns pluming into 

underbrush, nestled proudly beside the fallen, along paths made by 

communities of animals and man

all growing up to the sun that forever

spreads through blue skies, filters of thinning clouds,

banks of thickening, billowing dark clouds

white streaks hinting at electric storms to come with wild winds, 

slashing rain unable to quench wild fires that leap and burn.

                             ~~~~~

Epilepsy, unchecked and unnoticed, 

brings it’s own firestorm with little warning

electric misfires deep in soft brain jelly.

Hot spots never extinguished

merely dimmed down, dumbed down

by medication and meditation

by sleeping and waking 

by stepping forward and settling back

with time that grows ever longer

Epilepsy burrows under 

the giant ancestors, the tiniest flowers,

the most gracious ferns

to erupt in a firestorm of sparks, flames, and

destruction ~ Epilepsy spreads like wildfire, 

but only if fuel is there to burn ~ Where is the fuel?

What is the fuel? Could only I find what fuelled my epilepsy?

Was that seed of destruction my fault?

Were the seizures that boomed and cracked my fault?

NO! 

Merely an extra special responsibility

mine to mold, to develop and to refine

in firm kindness and genuine respect of

my life with this unwelcome guest.

Epilepsy is the seed that spreads weeds unless

my health and my ego is taught how to behave

Even so there are some whose epilepsy 

is more unruly

more unpredictable

more fiery with hot spots so hot

and hard to handle despite keeping 

faith with the rigours of health and happiness.

 ~ I have grown unfamiliar with

unpredictability every day.

Now I only know my epilepsy as 

dimmed down and dumbed down

so I can live and can love without fear.

“I can hear your whisper and distant mutter. 

I can smell your damp on the breeze and 

in the sky I see the halo of your violence. 

Storm I know you are coming.”

~ Robert Fanney, author

Author's note: Edited July 19, 2024

                        August 06, 2024 - Previously titled Firestorm - #3