Lanterns
How a sorry excuse of a love letter led you to me, and other nights, the ones when darkness drops like a verdict, and I remember the way we met, like two strangers who held lanterns in a world that had grown cold.
We are not the light itself — merely vessels cupping fragile flames against the wind. Some nights when darkness falls like a sentence I recall us as we met: Two strangers, holding lanterns in a world that turned cold.
Your light never asked to to warm my hands, to light the way I could not see. And now, years into this journey, I know that love is not the flame but the choice to keep walking when the wind says you should stop.
Your light is carried in the hollow of my bones Where not time nor weather could take what we’ve grown. Even when my own light is dancing and fluttering, yours remains bright a fixed star leading me home.
We are not the light — but we are that without which the light does not shine.
About the Creator
Neli Ivanova
Neli Ivanova!
She likes to write about all kinds of things. Numerous articles have been published in leading journals on ecosystems and their effects on humans.
https://neliivanova.substack.com/
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