2025-07-02

 The Candle and the Flame

Just as a candle waits for fire

To wake its slender, golden thread,

A soul is shaped by quiet desire—

A longing not for bread, but bread

That feeds the heart, that lights the mind,

That whispers in the silent night

Of something deeper, undefined,

A hidden spark, a secret light.

A candle cold is merely wax,

A form without a living core;

So too, a life that spirit lacks

Is shadowed, restless, wanting more.

For men are more than flesh and bone,

More than the sum of work and days—

Within each chest, a truth unknown

Awaits the touch that sets ablaze.

We seek the fire that cannot die,

A warmth that does not fade with time;

A hope that lifts us, makes us try

To rise beyond the dust and grime.

For just as flame gives candle birth,

So spirit gives our living worth—

A guiding star, a sacred breath,

That lights our way through life and death.

So tend the flame within your soul,

Let spirit’s fire gently grow;

For only then are we made whole—

And in that light, our true selves show.

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