The Line of Return II

Today I lit a fuse
slow-burning and barely
warm, but alive,
and it travels out from me ...
I lit it and let it go 
already it disappears into
darkness to take its
own course
and the end result
I will know
when it reaches its
destination and the
one it's meant for
picks it up -
the last glowing fibre of it
dying at his feet
the whole long line consumed
to a single filament
of red -
a legacy
a signature 
he picks up and brings
back to source
to lay on my
palm unburning 
yet still warm - to my skin
they will come home.
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