Skip to main content

I Am A Candle

I am a candle.  Possessing nothing; simply existing.
Crafted and formed with utter care.
External flame passes over me; I am not resisting.
The violence burns yet I am here.

I am a candle.  The spark ignites building into a flame.
The heat travels down to the surface.
Stillness is my foundation; I am of no shame.
Illuminated, I contemplate my purpose.

I am a candle.  The flame dances; my body does melt.
Wax dripping down; wax slowly given up.
There I go; the heat within is more fervently felt.
This is my portion; the emptying of the cup.

I am a candle.  Before I am nothing, the flame must remain.
Being immovable, a hand must lift me
And take me to another wick prepared for the gain.
Purpose fulfilled; I am evermore free.

I am a candle.  Just a thought drifting in your mind.
Though I am nothing; still I am something.
Look for my body; remnants you may certainly find.
Close your eyes; feel the fire still burning. 

     - Jeff Sadler













Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Les Projections Mentales

Mindful chassés Amidst quixotic skirmishes Riding abstract waves - En pointe flourishes Disciplined glissandos Along illumined keys Measured tremolos Vibrating Gaia's seas Orchestrated precision Whirlpools twist Nature's decision At the turn of a wrist Enigmatic code Manifests intention From Water's abode Emerges dimension - J. Sadler
Post a Comment
Read more

Abandon

* Warning!  Highly sensitive & possibly trigger inducing material.  Please read with caution.*      These are my pieces…      You probably don’t know me or - if you do - know  it occurred.  It really won’t matter because you wouldn’t even recognize my face, anyway (seeing how it’s splattered all across the rails and rocks.)      All most of you saw was what you wanted to see.  You couldn’t seem to see past the end of your nose.  I reached out to you, yet you were ashamed to be near me.  You called me psychotic,       worthless,            the dregs of society.        You told me to pick myself up “by the bootstraps!”   …if only it were that easy…        I sought out anything to numb the pain of my own self-loathing.  Then, I was hated for that destructive vice which I succumbed to; and that made me hate m...
Post a Comment
Read more

Another Comedy for the Logos

And there was my heart On that sleeve drenched in blood, Squeezed to the last drop, Trampled, and pressed in the mud. The chalice was raised; “Take drink!” They all said. Whence my tongue rejected it, They cried, “Lie, thee, with the dead!”      And you’ll paint a pretty heaven      And turn mortals into gods      While you stand and watch me burn      Amidst complacent nods.      You place filthy hands      On my emaciated back.      I’ll be what I will be      When, alas, you paint me black! And I sank into my skin As you ripped out my tongue. “It’s for your own good,” Was the song to be sung. And, oh, they stoked the fire To set the demons free; Led by the shackles Of their mental slavery.      And you’ll paint a pretty heaven      And turn mortals into gods      While you stand and watch me burn      Amids...
Post a Comment
Read more