Unwinding

A choice presents itself: to wind the strings of memory around my longing state, or find the breathless candle at the end of a long corridor of time that still keeps faith with light, that will invite a dream to weave its wisdom, seize my mind and not its melancholy, where the riches are. There is some comfort, wallowing among the callow simpering of tender angst but it is temporal, its stumbling quest will slumber fitfully, its rest in vain. There is that candle, with its strength bestowed in peace—its blazing fire of love fair strowed upon a cosmic heart, outrageous in its pretense to be frail. It has become a flame transcendent in its zeal for change, and as we watch the self it is no more indulgence of the past, but in its place, a gracious gathering of an eternal now. ~