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The Candle
I sit on the floor and watch it burning -
in this darkness it is the only light -
as the hours pass and time keeps turning.
It brings out shadows and brings into sight
shapes, nooks, and crannies, dim and dark color;
this view is hidden by the light of day.
The shadows creep, the bookshelves are taller.
However, this sight will soon go away
when it burns down and burns itself out -
the flame and the wick are not forever.
Still it is true - of this I have no doubt -
the time ere it burns out altogether
is so sweet that it makes up for the fact
that it is gone and ends up not intact.
