by Iona Mandal

The candle glows
A bright encouraging molten gold
The light filling our heart
Imparting happiness
An optimistic feel
Lending a fiery liveliness
Radiant even in sad times
Cheering us up when blue
Expanding small hearts
Into an ocean of generosity

Yet when the light wanes
Charring the milky white wick
Almost drooping like a dog’s ears
Enveloped by dying smoke
Gradually darkening like the summer night sky
With its light no more
Pessimism invades
Depressing, boring black
Adding a frown, gloominess and melancholy
The magic evading, leaving us belittled.