In Candlelight

By Kelvin M. Knight

You want to kneel, but kneeling is too painful. You want to bow your head, but stiffness is a board from your unlevel hips upward. Staring at the candlelight, you concentrate on its arcing shades of blue, amber and orange. Breathing the sweetness of oranges, you observe the candle grow tall as the window upon whose ledge it balances.

A flickering blaze consumes you.

Away flow rivers of pain. Away roll mountains of hostility. Uprooted are forests born from unnecessary pride. Standing alone on a desolate landscape, you want to kneel and pray but your inhumanity won’t let you.