These embers, though appear to be waning,
have arrested enough fire to burn as incandescent
as the rising sun at the end of night.
A divinely soft breath from behind your angelic lips
would ferry enough oxygen to feed these tiny flames,
casting aglow to this vacant cavity in my chest.
Cup your hands protectively around this premature
flicker of light, let not the gust of indecision
extinguish this morsel of hope that strains for life.
Cradle this fire in the palm of your hand,
and take heart for it will not burn,
the heat of passion does not scar the hands of lovers.
Feed to this light your words of apprehension,
keep a watchful eye as it consumes doubt
and refines it into noble confidence.
Toss into the flame your distress of hurtful repetition,
witness how it melts aching anxiety
and forms the substance of hopeful foresight.
Cast the multitude of your burdensome illusions
into this peaceful fire of adulation,
and take notice as it overtakes your terror.
All the more this flame grows in your hand,
all the more it denies it’s nature to burn,
now a servile blaze of light in the hands of my love.
Cede your protecting flame into my body,
allow it to seize the blood in my veins
and amplify it’s intent through my existence.
Allow me to be your living flame,
grant me the privilege to radiate light through my heart,
consent to me the honor to harbor devotion.
I, your benevolent beam,
your altruistic beacon,
shines only to illuminate your path to heaven.
As God orchestrated the melody to which fire dances,
He authored me, a vessel,
in which to instill His magnanimous love for you.
This delicate flesh and these brittle bones
,incapable to create,
only house the incomparable grace He gives.
Think of me as no more than a lantern,
providing sheltering ambience,
so that you may see God even in the darkest of night.