A person very close to my heart came with a burnt out candle with no wick left and said to me, I know you take photos of everything so I am giving this to you. What appeared as simple words triggered a series of very inspirational photos and this soothing poem. At the end of all the fun, I played around with the melted wax and shaped it into a rose.
I have come to understand that putting an object under the scrutiny of a lens opens us up to beauty & magic, usually gone unheeded.
A candle flame
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Burning, burning in the night
A candle flame small and bright
Melting tears on its edge
Sculpting its way to lava swell
Flickering shadows,
Dancing off the pages,
Of a story Words create
Fighting for a Better place,
A role befitting the prodigy,
Their master Sired.
Cajoling, exhorting
It to permanence.
Burning, burning into dawn
A candle timid and drawn
Day tiptoeing around scattered roles
Around the maker of a life beginning
To unfold.