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It all starts with a tiny bit of flame
That grows and strengthens, melting
The wax of experience, feeding off it:
Carried along the wick of time,
Whether willing or not, batted
By capricious wind, sometimes
Almost out. To some, it is needed light:
All too fragile in a moonless night,
Gentle beauty illuminating dark ways.
And to others, the seed of destruction
Waiting for its time to burn their bridges.
Some wish it snuffed, some wish it eternal,
But in the end, it merely burns
Until finished.
![[Candle]](../img/candle.jpg)
(There used to be a comments form here. However, having seen what I get when I make it easy to comment, that form has been indefinitely suspended. I can still be reached by email at <loonxtall@hotmail.com>. I apologize for any inconvenience.)
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Lakeside Park is maintained by C. Daelhousen <loonxtall@hotmail.com>