Fire

         She sat in the small circle of light provided by a candle, its fire swaying slightly from the zephyr that blew from the open window. It was a new moon and outside, it was almost pitch black. She stared dreamily at the dancing flame, her thoughts quite blurry. Ideas slowly drifted slowly in her brain and she continued to wonder on.

         She saw how close we are to flames, whether on candles or out in the open. Wherever it is, it is still fire:

         Some burn to help others, some burn to scorn.

We are lit, we are born, and we are blown out, we die. We live until the last of the string and wax are smoldered to nothing, then we go out. But some die sooner, blown off before they have completed their purpose and never rekindled.

When we are set ablaze, we live, we are used, we have a purpose. But not all are as fortunate. There are some who are never lit, the ones who sleep in candles, left only for display. Those are the ones who have not lived life. Maybe it is because they are scared to fail, restrained by their fears or others’ fears. Or perhaps they have not completely understood their purpose as fires of candles.

We have the potential to be helpful and to be destructive. We can help make, but never the makers. That is God’s part. And we can destroy. 

         We are great, born to be majestic, but only some get to do so. But no matter how powerful we are, we are still pretty fragile, as a flame could easily die out from the elements. A small gust of wind could easily turn it off.

         When we are not disciplined, when we escape the certain barriers set up to control us, we go wild and can become a great threat to others. We are only allowed a certain freedom by the higher ups, so that they could manage us. But I wonder… Is that good or bad?

         Her thoughts were interrupted as a strong wind blew and extinguished the candle. A small ember remained but soon disappeared as well, leaving nothing but smoke. She stood up, stumbled onto her bed and lay down, her eyes slowly closing. As she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts echoed around her mind: When we die, do we still linger for a while, like the embers of the fire, before we are swallowed by the darkness?

         Then she slept, her thoughts slowly fading away, evanescent as the final ember.