Something lifts us up. We rise
readily enough at the start.
Something carries us forward
in hope and expectation.
Is it life’s own longing for itself
that drives us? It must be for
I feel it in myself, lifting me still.
And this accommodates both
faith and godlessness, so primal
is the force. So when it fails
long before its fuel is spent,
what are we to make of this?
I’ve lit a candle for you, Charlie
and in the time it’s taken me to
think these thoughts and then to
write them down, it’s half-way gone.
I can light another and I shall.
But then I’ll walk away between
these pillars and these pews
and the tiny flame will never die
Dick Jones xxxxx
zjones
20th December 2013