Flowers on the altar.
Light through the stained glass window.
A row of candles flicker.
Peace. A moment of it at least.
But you are restless.
It is an affliction,
when the peace you seek day after day,
suddenly needs ruffling.
One by one the candles go out.
The sun goes down.
The trick is this, to leave
before the last candle goes out
and the come back to light them again
whenever the morning comes.
About this poem.
“You are restless.” my wife told me this morning. She knows me well, this woman I love. And restlessness for me is never about dissatisfaction, only a need to travel, to see, be, experience something new, and the journey there and back.
Some will understand. Some will not.
PS: I have no idea where I took this picture, but I am guessing, from the style, that it was from Olana, home of Frederick Church, one of the painters from the Hudson River School of painters.