If there were a god of fire, what would keep him burning? An old love rekindled or the flame of betrayal and tables turning?

If there were a god of wind, what would make him sing? A gust of cold indifference or a person breaking from their leash?

If there were a god of soil, what would keep him strong? The pounding of a new heartbeat or an old one’s attempt to hold on?

If there were a god of the sea, what would fill his ocean? The whispers of those who love or the yells of those who loathe them?

If there were a god of stars, what would make him shine so bright? A perfect moment of harmony, or the flash of a couple’s first fight?

If there were a god of shadows, what would soothe his dark? Would it be the chaos of the world, or the power of forgiveness within a heart? Perhaps the world is one of the mysteries never meant to be pulled apart.

What is love without pain, what is loss without gain, what is a dry world without gentle autumn rain, and what’s the point of the peace in the center of the hurricane?

What is the fabric between the stars made of, and why do mountain’s move, what does the pure flame in a campfire feel like, and how does the earth overcome its wounds?

Why are emotions silent, when to us they seem so loud, and why do relationships come and
go when most don’t stick around?

Why is the loudest point always in the quiet, and why does the sun create diamond glints on snow?

To all these questions for the universe, I guess we’ll never know.

Until the day I find these answers I suppose I’ll keep learning. But if there were a god of fire, what would keep him burning?