The Inner Musings of an Unsure Mind

The Inner Musings of an Unsure Mind

A Poem by Fiona Kerr

Fire: an entity that has demanded attention since the begging of time.

 

The flickering of a flame discovered to be vastly useful in the maintenance of a society has also been discovered to be vastly useful in the maintenance of the mind.

 

The attention demanding, awe inspiring great flame has become a household convenience in the form of a simple candle. In this simple candle one can find a wick, engulfed in a hard wax. When a source of a preexisting flame is brought to simply touch the end of the wick, the wick is consumed in the essence of the flame immediately. As the preexisting source of fire is taken away, the flame grasps onto it’s new found host, refusing to travel away with it’s life giving source and choosing to stay firmly attached to the wick where it belongs. Here we find the flame in our own possession, for our own enjoyment, enabling us to take away from it what we please.

 

Fire has the power to affect all around it. As the flame dances in the wind, it prompts the melting of the once sturdy wax into a malleable liquid.

 

The flame seems to be in control, enveloping the once stand-alone wick. As it sways from side to side, pieces of the wick show but just the parts the flame desires to revel to the world. The coexisting relationship between the two proves to be beneficial to both entities. The wick lives inside the flame, allowing it to dance in the wind.

 

The flame thrives through the structure of the wick, failing to permanently exist prior to their union. 

 

Equally, the wick thrives through the beauty of the flame, failing to provide use or importance to the world without the flame’s presence.

 

Without the other, they are useless, but together, they create the awe inspiring magical relationship we all crave.

 

The flame burns until the liquid wax source runs out. Then the flame disappears just as quickly as it came, leaving nothing behind but a small puff of smoke and an eternally blackened and burnt wick.

 

The wick now finds itself useless again, its purpose ousted with the beauty of the flame.

 

It now stands tarnished as a remnant of the beauty it once hosted, losing meaning in it’s life, left to eternally reflect on the loss of the loveliness it once held in it’s possession. 

© 2014 Fiona Kerr


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Added on May 15, 2014
Last Updated on May 15, 2014

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