Waiting for Fire to Rise

Soon it will be a thousand days
since you died.

My heart stirs now and then:
this is what to do next,
this is who needs you next.

I go to people who are sick,
to the one struggling, or stuck.

Someone needs me: I can help,
I perk up, I get to work.

In my usual way I give —
all of who I am

but, fire is gone. Nothing
sears my mind, my heart;
body and soul are not ablaze.

Stirring fades. I am only
embers now.