Candle

March 25, 2016
By niciolah SILVER, South Riding, Virginia
niciolah SILVER, South Riding, Virginia
5 articles 0 photos 8 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Whoever has ears, let them hear." Matthew 13:9


I lie in distant planes of a lost time
And my groans and sighs echo against the stones at my feet.
For two waxen demons sit on my shoulderss
And have grown too heavy for my frame.
A wing made of wax cannot be folded;
Neither can it bear the weight of Icarus skywards.

I take a waxen feather and offer it to the sky,
In hopes that he will consider coming closer.
The Sun, in her eagerness to gift me height
Firmly takes her spear of sky
And nails my wings to the ground,
So waxen feathers become one with shining stones.

The Earth trembles from my howl of pain,
And I grind the stones between my fingers into fine sand.
Like a pillar finding root in my feathers,
The sky stretches for miles, sapphire encased in cotton,
Until it reaches a pale face adorned by a crown of cosmos
And dark eyes looped by concern.

As I weep into the sand made of stones around me,
The Sun understands the damage that she has done.
Her royal blue cloak,
Gifted to her when she took her place among the stars,
Fades away as she places another hand upon her spear of sky.

The stars exclaim and run about in fury
As the Sun abandons her throne within the heavens
And steps onto her spear of sky
Leaving a footstep-shaped scorch mark along the horizon.
My tears flow more fiercely,
Forming a gleaming puddle around the sun’s spear,
For my soul is liquified by the Sun’s concern,
And I am unworthy of her proximity.

The space between two lovers is dying smaller
And yet, it is illuminated with life
As my northern star descends to me
And I form a liquid around her toes.

Footprints of darkness trail along the sky,
Casting hues of red, and blue, and purple,
As though the day itself felt bruised and battered
And thought, perhaps, it should take its leave,
Allowing the stars to glitter like the finest jewels in the Sun’s treasury...

Her glow has grown weak in my liquid presence;
She casts only a faint halo of light
Within the space between our nearly touching noses.
And, in a moment of brief abandon,
Or freedom,
Or recklessness,
Or love...
The Sun drowns in Icarus’s ocean,
Consoling me in a final embrace,
And the world is plunged into darkness.


The author's comments:

When we see a candle burning away, do we ever truly see it? Do we see the sunset? Or the sacrifice of Christ? Or the legend of Icarus, bringing the Sun down with him? Maybe it's time we started looking at things the way we used to, with the wonder of new discovery.


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