Poem: The Flame

In the hush of night where shadows lie,
A whisper dances, rising high—
A flicker born of spark and air,
A breath of light, a bold affair.

It twists with grace, it bends with will,
A restless heart that won’t sit still.
Gold and amber, red and blue,
A living ghost that flickers through.

It knows no fear, it knows no end,
It devours all, yet will defend.
A lover’s warmth, a fury’s roar,
A quiet hearth, a burning war.

Held in glass or wild and free,
It speaks of all that life can be.
A beacon bright, a siren’s call,
The flame that lifts—and lets us fall.

So guard it well, or set it loose—
But know the fire you dare to use.
For every light it gives, it takes,
And leaves a trail of ash and wakes.

Thank-you for reading.

Much love and Light,

Brenda Marie Fluharty