seen flickering about near a warm glow of amber.
Swaying through time with great mesmerization
We’re drawn to its brilliance and calm emanation
Then comes a draft, or a drop, or a fall,
And swift as an arrow the glimmer grows small.
Quick to the flame before it fails to be light!
Say grace, say peace, then tell it good night.
Now shrouded in darkness these walls we despise
But wait! We still see it, if we just close our eyes.
The warmth is familiar and its glow feels like home,
Though the flame may be absent, we’re never alone.
Mo West 1957-2010
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