Wick and wax
of tallow smells
stands indifferent alone,
in the colorlessness a
silent sentinel emblematic
of many minds stands
in an empty room.
In darkness it stands
as silence grows,
engulfing space.
The Icon awaiting fire.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Candle / poem by Jerry d.
Wick and wax
of tallow smells
stands indifferent alone,
in the colorlessness a
silent sentinel emblematic
of many minds stands
in an empty room.
In darkness it stands
as silence grows,
engulfing space.
The Icon awaiting fire.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
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