A Lamp Unto My Feet.
The power has been out for hours.
And in that moment, the antique lamp,
kept for decoration,
suddenly becomes useful.
About this poem
Whittled from five stanzas to this.
Strangely, a poem about faith, how we often abandon it as we careen through life, but are oh so glad to reclaim it when times become hard. And like the lamp, patiently waiting, it is always there, ready.
It can also be about lamps.
Have a good day all,
Tom
Quarry House 
And I’m always amazed at often in my darkness I simply just need to open my eyes to see the light from the lamp…
Upon further reflection — In reality, the Power never fails, the Light always burns brightly, but my eyes are closed either by choice or by chance.