Burning
Shall I burn brightly:
The flight of a sparrow through
The fire-lit glory of the mead-halls
from darkness to darkness
With that brief passage
of brilliant light and heat?
Or shall I burn soft and subdued,
the banked peat fire through
long winter night of huddled homes,
Giving only a little but for long time,
Staving off freezing snows
with meagre, measured warmth?
Shall my show be the splendour
Of the fireworks at New Year,
Shooting flames and colour
High into the midnight sky?
Or shall it be the dim glow
Of the dark lantern,
Concealed and saved
For when it might be needed?
Shall I be the sparkler in the cocktail
Spitting white-hot stars
And burning my words onto retinas
of many mind’s eyes?
Or yet a single lonely candle
Lit to draw a lost soul home,
Set in window and left to flicker
Where few if any will see?
Put me then to the test:
Set a match to me,
Watch me burning
And see how long I last.
that was very beautiful….
“lit to draw a lost soul home”…
that was especially poignant…
Maria
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