passion

Into the Candle’s Glow

We dine by candlelight.

Then I stare into the candle’s glow.

Entranced, I slip away and lose myself

to a loving, mystic awareness.

I am the silent beauty of the candle

whose inner core overflows with melting joy

as it stands crowned

with flame of jewelled light—

I am the candle and the flame

and all that rests upon this table of life—

even the subtle fragrance

and quiet dignity of the deep red rose

that leans, enchanted, toward the candlelight…

as now I see, so do I.

Then I smile at my beloved, who smiles

with wondering eyes at me.

January, 1997, revised April, 2004 January, 2006

Flowerpoet