Light in Dark

In the dark water of the deep pond

beneath the surface, a flame slowly moving.

(An airplane moving, high in the sky at night.)

Winged flames are found in such unexpected 

places - 

a torch at night in the thick forest,

a candle burning on a moon-lit desert,

a beacon on a starless ocean,

a memory of light sparked by a dead child's eyes. 

My hope - nothing but rituals of light in dark.

I don't know whether that leads

away from one's life or into one's life.

I have suspected for some time now that

my own gnarled darkness, roiling with energies,

if uncovered, would become bright paths of fire.  

Sylvan Moe