My Candle

I blew it out.

Smoke billowing lazily

from the glowing wick

that once held

the flame of my hope,

my dreams,

my faith.

Yet it was not dark.

The oozing wax down the shaft

slowly hardened

as the heat

dissapated from my heart,

my soul,

my belief.

I could still see.

I see You standing there

holding a candle

with a flame

so bright that it energizes my being,

my desire,

my love.

I turn to look at You.

I suddenly see that

while I extinguished my candle,

it was not my light.

It was not my soul.

Instead,

it was Yours.

A tear rolls down my cheek.

Beside me you were there

to light the way

when I was to blind to see

the path laid

in front

of me.

I light my candle for others to see

the joy You bring me . . .