Beauty from Ashes

Beauty from ashes
said often, but what does it mean?
Our fire has faded and burnt out
white and gray pieces of dust

He stirs us up
An unpleasant smoke appears
The scent of it stings the nose
but then, peering closer there is red

A crimson color covered by dust
A faint ember seen only by the Savior
He moves in us, breaking off the charcoal shell
Releasing more smoke, more pain

But even in the unpleasantness
He is working, moving
Snaps sound, tiny flames begin to form
He is the master Firemaker and maintainer

He breathes life over us
We ignite, bursting into bright lights
Licking the air He's given us
trying to get as much of Him as possible

We can only partially survive without Him
But it is meager, only minimal
We thrive only when we give Him control
He is our source. We must let Him kindle us.