For some reason, I think this is one of the most "perfect" poems I have ever written, and, as it happens, one of my earliest. It feels to me almost sacred. It is funny that it has come to my mind again today, as the number 7 is the Biblical number of wholeness and perfection. I have just realised that, if I were to reorganise the lines, it also constitutes a natural sonnet, which I never noticed before... that somehow makes it even more special! Have revised it slightly since it's last appearance here in March 2005. :)) K xx

FLAME


Because a candle burns,
I am not in the dark, alone;

you are with me, but you are not
the molten wax that singes
with its burning liquid skin.

And you are not the cool head
of the lily-petalled flame,
or the pink of its hot heart.

As I breathe out my longing,
the candle flame is snuffed.

Close at last, you are the sacred
incense of rising, smoky strands
that permeates the darkness,

your fire making the whole room bright.