My Flame

There is this light – this lantern.

One golden flame I always turn to.

It’s got carvings, it draws patterns on the walls

and it always tells the unmasked truth.

*

The flame, my lantern’s heart,

some days it sways and flickers

enchantingly,

bewitchingly.

The other days it’s slow and calm,

its peak reaching for the skies up high.

*

Her glow is warm and soothing

It gives me hope and carries through,

when all else is weighing down on me,

she lifts me up, she sets me free.

*

I’m smitten by her shades

of red, oranges and yellows.

How they grow from faint to shining

and fade away in hush again.

The colours dance on glass walls and ceiling,

no two breaths of her look the same.

*

Her heat gently strokes my cheeks

when wind stole their warmth and stole their blush.

She dries my tears and lights the way

when storm clouds overhead would crash.

*

Her beauty, strength and tenderness

draw me close in soft embrace.

She keeps secrets I’ve dared to confess.

She’s strong yet gentle, all at once.

*

Some nights I sit for hours, two.

The other times for just a trice.

Some nights I’m there to see the view,

more often for advice.

*

Throughout my life she’s been there for me,

my comfort,

sometimes for simply company.

She’s always there when life gets tough,

when sorrow washes over me,

when everything is just too much,

when important words were left unsaid.

She's still there, believes in me.

*

I never questioned,

never asked

where did she come from

or why she chose to stay with me.

Until one day to show my thanks,

I smiled at her.

I reached out my finger

and warily swept over her golden painting of a wall.

*

To my surprise,

my finger met itself on glass,

on a mirror that I never noticed there before.

*

My eyes –

filled with gratitude,

then confusion,

and finally the realization –

looked back at me with ancient wisdom.

*

And the lantern,

the light I always turn to,

in my chest, she flickered on

knowingly,

spilling golden warmth on me.

I rest my hands on her,

and feel quiet, muffled thumps

knocking on my warmed-up palms.