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When I read Candles by Mary Kling, over at In the Corner of My Eye, a glimmering of a poem rose up in response. I offer it here.
Friend,
my hope is
that the beauty
of the candles
will warm
Memory
and the lighting
of the candles
will rekindle
Hope.
I light this candle
with love.
In its glow,
may you find
some comfort
here.
*** *** *** ***
The prompt at Poetry Jam is Candles. I love candles and always have a lot of them around. I love their flickering light in the evening, their scent, love burning them for peace, or in memory of my beloved Pup.
In childhood, the mystique of incense and candles, flickering in red votive glass, as the Latin words echoed in the nearly empty church, in the darkness of an early winter morning, steeped my world in divine mystery.
As a young woman, a candle lit beside the bed invited loving passion and tipped me over the threshold from innocence to the sweetest knowing.
At the beach, fat white candles sat ready, for the many times the power went out, spilling their light onto the page as I read, while the west wind howled
outside.
After my wolf-Pup died, a lit candle was for remembering, and sputtered
with my tears.
Candles are for Peace, for honoring the dead, for Remembering, for Beauty, and for Truth.
In the heart of the candle's flame, look to find your fondest dreams of Tomorrow.
