The Truth

It feels fragile, this flame,
this single candle standing in the window,
a hint of light, no more
than necessary to walk in the night.

Somehow, even in this familiar place,
the shadows turn ominous.
Your mind lies to you, sure
you are near the end, sure
this last candle will flicker and fail,
sure there is no dawn,

But it is a lie. All of it except the light.
The Devil’s lie. His only weapon
in his need to break, to destroy,
to tear down.

His only weapon, but a powerful one
for us mere humans. You have spent time
in his thrall. You know his wiles
and yet still, now and again, he rules.

But never for long. Not now,
You have become the warrior you never believed
yourself capable of being. You understand
at last the power of light. The power of movement,
of doing despite your fear,

perfectly capable to walk in darkness,
stronger than the scars you have earned
walking in darkness before. You have learned
that light, even the slightest light, is enough,
and so are you.

About this poem

Thinking about the people I know and love who fight depression and anxiety. The people who are spiritually lost. The paralyzed by the lying mind’s wiles. The light is always there. Let it in and it is powerful, because light is true. If I only had one life lesson to share, this would be it.

I have lived it. Now and again, I still do.

Be well. Travel wisely,

Tom

PS: I have no idea where I took this picture.