Following the NaPoWriMo prompt today calling for a poem about a handmade or homemade gift that you have received. It’s been an extremely difficult day to read the news — even more difficult than the hard, hard weeks that have preceded it. This prompt immediately made me think of a gift given to me by a friend who has offered me solace so many times, with her wise perspective and empathetic heart.

The Candles

I wonder if I’ll ever use

these beeswax candles, red

like the pure heart of she who made them?

How can I sever the wick, linking

one fragrant candle to the other,

when looking at it reminds me

how a seemingly simple connection

made over one conversation

can become so important?