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January 02, 2009
on lighting candles
I'm lighting a candle for you.
I'm a fool to myself, I know. But a fool in a hurry, because like Poirot in the last ten minutes, it's a race against time.
We could be all right,though. On this second day of january 2009, there may still be a newness about you, a space - we must hope so, captain.
Because it's for that miracle of space I'm lighting this damn thing.
The wax and wick have been sitting in my kitchen drawer for literally yonks - and really, even one yonk is too long.
(Yes, I know. I need to clean out my kitchen draw. I have too many keys for no known locks; odd batteries for no known appliance and fresh wipe cloths which dried out some years ago.)
So enough is enough! I'm lighting a candle. What good are wax and wick if they remain strangers to flame?
But I have to say, it's all such a bother.
The matches have gone AWOL.
I mean, really!
You might think - but no, they are nowhere to be seen.
(I've looked in the kitchen drawer, thank you!)
I may postpone this til tomorrow, to be honest.
Would that be OK?
There's always another time, eh?
The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Or is my flesh willing and the spirit weak? It's so important to live on the cusp of both, but immersed in neither; riding that perfect wave, where their two seas meet.
Agghh! Ye gods! I've burnt myself.
(I found the matches. They were in the kitchen drawer - but hidden by the tin foil. You wouldn't have done any better. No really, you wouldn't.)
Again.
Strike.
Flame.
Ahhh!...
The wick and wax become a candle at last.
They were nothing in the draw.
But now? Now they are everything - as they die for you in flickering, burning glory.
Posted by Mr Bojangles at January 2, 2009 01:49 PM