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My Parent's Candle

by Leandra K Brossard

My parents have a candle,
seven inches across,
with three wicks, white
and at least ten inches tall,

I love to watch that candle burn,
it's mostly melted now,
and lost a wick partway down
leaving a sort of back wall of wax
behind the other two,

I've watched for hours as that
wall of wax began to slicken, shimmering,
slowly melting into the pools below
like a great glacier,
giving way ponderously
before the heat beneath it,

I communed with that candle,
many late evenings my eyes locked
upon it's fluttering gaze,
wondering at its beauty while
balancing the precarious
job of melting that glacial wall
without drowning the small flames
flickering at it's base,

My parents smile and shake their heads,
they do not understand,
I am a grown woman, married now,
but I am fascinated by such
simple things in life,
candles that we take for granted
and replace when we tire of them.

But I have revived a dead candle,
added no more than a few hours
to it's already fruitful life,
but I am sure that the candle at least
appreciates my efforts on it's behalf,
allowing it to complete it's earthly mission
to bring light and joy to a small household
in the evening, for another night.

02/14/2004

Author's Note: What is it that causes fascination? A candle is such a simple thing, and yet to examine it can take such concentration and energy, yet bring such peace..

Posted on 02/15/2004
Copyright © 2021 Leandra K Brossard

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Max Bouillet on 02/15/04 at 02:30 AM

Leandra, this is beautiful. The imagery is warm and endearing. There is something fascinating, almost magical, about the candle. The chandlers of olde should have been given much more prestige in the community as being the givers of light. Very well done! :)

Posted by Ashok Sharda on 02/15/04 at 08:43 AM

This is a nice piece. Candle may be a small thing but it spreads light. Besides it creates an atmosphere where its easy to BE and reflect on what is. Your observation is keen. Besides the candle is analogous to a meaningful life. Though a bit prosaic but a beautiful piece.

Posted by Maureen Glaude on 02/15/04 at 01:58 PM

I'm very much like that, and was more so in my younger days even. I once did a candle speech for public speaking class, had the restaurant lights all dimmed, and held the lit candle in a holder, while I delivered the poem I'd written for it. It was my final exam. I think there is symbolism too in the attempt for eternity (though we know they'll never have it) but the long-lastingness of this candle for you, and perhaps the nice security of your parents' home and their marriage, is also represented in its always being there when you return? Lovely work.

Posted by Richard Trotter on 02/18/04 at 09:56 AM

a beautiful and thoughtful piece.

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