One of my colleagues at Spotify had a writing workshop for folks to attend on their lunch break. I like to participate in these kinds of things because they provide an opportunity to meet other people that enjoy being a creator or writer.
The prompt we were given resonated with me: “Describe a memory of sharing stories by a fire.”
I set myself a goal to write something I’ve not written in years—a poem.
Poetry is such a powerfully expressive form of writing and I enjoyed the challenge.
Sharing a story by a fire is as human as a warm hug from someone you love. Watching the flames dancing to their own rhythm, laying trance to your mind, your ears alive as a tale captivates your heart and imagination.
Twice every year, my son Asmund and I drive 10 hours North up to the Adirondack mountains to escape the furious pace of modern life, retreat to nature, and be human together. One of our primary activities is storytelling—around a fire outside or in front of the fireplace.
I think the art of weaving a story impromptu around a fire is one of the most satisfying things a creator can do. To let your mind freely explore and birth a tale as unique as you is one of the great human privileges that I hope will never be forgotten.
The prompt we were given resonated with me: “Describe a memory of sharing stories by a fire.”
I set myself a goal to write something I’ve not written in years—a poem.
Poetry is such a powerfully expressive form of writing and I enjoyed the challenge.
Sharing a story by a fire is as human as a warm hug from someone you love. Watching the flames dancing to their own rhythm, laying trance to your mind, your ears alive as a tale captivates your heart and imagination.
Twice every year, my son Asmund and I drive 10 hours North up to the Adirondack mountains to escape the furious pace of modern life, retreat to nature, and be human together. One of our primary activities is storytelling—around a fire outside or in front of the fireplace.
I think the art of weaving a story impromptu around a fire is one of the most satisfying things a creator can do. To let your mind freely explore and birth a tale as unique as you is one of the great human privileges that I hope will never be forgotten.
Alight
The fire crackled, its flames leapt and spun,
As father and son sat close, their day near done.
The boy's eyes were bright, his spirit alight,
Eager to hear a tale on this brisk summer night.
The father cleared his throat and began to spin,
A yarn for his child, a story to take him in.
His voice rumbled low, words soothing as a song,
Weaving a world for the boy to dive in.
The story washed and surged round them, the firelight flitted and flared,
The father's words cradled the boy as though in a trance he was snared.
Heroes and villains, adventures and friends,
Over backyards to great forests, the story extends.
The boy hung on each word, each twist and turn,
Eyes shining bright with the lessons they etch.
The voice of his father protecting him from harm,
Filling his mind with imagination’s stretch.
As the story concluded, the fire burned low,
They laughed and they danced with hearts all aglow.
Chanting like warriors, their connection tuned,
Through stories, through love, their bond was imbued.
And as the night deepened they hugged once again,
Father and son, now connected as men.
Around flames in the darkness, revealing what's inside—
This is humanity's spirit, magnified.
As father and son sat close, their day near done.
The boy's eyes were bright, his spirit alight,
Eager to hear a tale on this brisk summer night.
The father cleared his throat and began to spin,
A yarn for his child, a story to take him in.
His voice rumbled low, words soothing as a song,
Weaving a world for the boy to dive in.
The story washed and surged round them, the firelight flitted and flared,
The father's words cradled the boy as though in a trance he was snared.
Heroes and villains, adventures and friends,
Over backyards to great forests, the story extends.
The boy hung on each word, each twist and turn,
Eyes shining bright with the lessons they etch.
The voice of his father protecting him from harm,
Filling his mind with imagination’s stretch.
As the story concluded, the fire burned low,
They laughed and they danced with hearts all aglow.
Chanting like warriors, their connection tuned,
Through stories, through love, their bond was imbued.
And as the night deepened they hugged once again,
Father and son, now connected as men.
Around flames in the darkness, revealing what's inside—
This is humanity's spirit, magnified.
