In a later letter
The same writer refused
To let anger own the night
It may arrive
It may not take the wheel
So I came back here
And asked
What gives zeal
Its heat?
The answer was already waiting
Inside the chapter
Mercy first
Then the living body
Zeal awake
Spirit boiling
The Lord being served
The heat was never master
It had a direction
The question is not
Whether heat remains
The question is
What gives it breath
Grievance feeds
By eating its bearer
Mercy received
Can pass through open hands
Keep the heat
Change the source
Not a fire that needs a victim
To stay alive
Rage can make an engine
Out of another face
It keeps the wound on display
So the tank never looks empty
Comparison-fed ambition
Needs an audience
Take the ranking away
And it loses its road
Fear burns behind the wall
And calls the smoke protection
Three engines
One exhaust
A person slowly spent
And the fourth?
Not a fourth engine
A gift before the engine
Mercy received
The Spirit's breath
Service with no rival required
The question is not
Whether heat remains
The question is
What gives it breath
Grievance feeds
By eating its bearer
Mercy received
Can pass through open hands
Keep the heat
Change the source
Not a fire that needs a victim
To stay alive
There's an old story
About a man in a desert
Who stops walking
Because a bush is burning
And still there
I keep that image
Not as a test
For every flame
But as a warning
About the fires I feed
Heat alone
Does not name its source
So I stopped asking
How to feel less
I started asking
Where did mercy meet me?
Whom does this energy serve?
What must it consume
To keep its name?
The question is not
Whether heat remains
The question is
What gives it breath
Keep the heat
Change the source
Not colder
Truer
Not less fire
A fervour
That knows
Whom it serves
Let zeal stay awake
Let the spirit hold its heat
Serve the Lord
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