Verbal Visions

The Dying Candle

The Dying Candle

"I wish we could put up some of the Christmas spirit in jars and open a jar of it every month." ~Harlan Miller

In the pre-dawn silence of the sleeping house,
the meager candle burns its last flickers.
I can hear the pop of the wick
inside the glass jar
as it fights to keeplife in the flame.

The glow of Christmas memories play in my mind.
As the wax begins to melt,
the scent of Christmas fills the air.

The festive jar,
that was once so beautiful,
and held the promise of Christmas celebration
is now blackened around the edges
from its hours of standing vigil.
It's beauty is gone and Christmas is now over.

The scent it provides only burns at Christmas time.
It is the scent of happiness and family.
It is the scent of home.

And as the dark smoke rises
from the dying flickering wick,
I don't see a black used up candle,
I see another year that I had my family around me,
and a place to call home.