He smiled as he brushed together his old flint and steel,
smiling the way he always did, lopsided and full of love,
his sparks kindling the wood into a roaring fire.
I watched him and wondered how long his heart would burn with fire,
fire with flames of self-sacrifice, never-ending, a body of steel
meant to serve with no lack of love.
He never stopped working, showing his good ol’ love
by washing floors, growing food and lighting fire,
always faithful as his good ol’ flint and steel.
He set aside his flint and steel as we sat around the fire,
and told us a story of a Man and His love.