Absolutely gorgeous poem, Brian. Insomnia is a plague right now. The light from a single small flame can fill a large space. These words are a candle in the dark.
Thanks Ann, I’m glad you enjoyed. Sorry to hear you’re struggling with insomnia. I had a bout this fall (which is what this came out of)...it’s nuts what the minds tells you in the middle of the night...
This really caught me, how you described light as a sound. The flicker of a candle and the light it produces certainly has this sound, this whisper. Really liked that. Lovely writing.
Beautiful! Beautiful! Beautiful! We give the dark so much power, but it can be dispelled with a small flame and then we can watch the “shadows dance joyously”. Great work as always, Brian!
I love all the visual aspects of this poem. There's such beautiful longing in this poem, and a faith that the light of you life will return. Until then, shadow dancing.
A lovely poem, Brian. I love the notion that the sun hasn't abandoned us, even when it seems so.
This is a really visual poem for me. I know the feeling of lying there awake at night, longing for dawn, even if just for the feeling that it's OK to now get up and begin the day.
It's also very vivid at how shadow's can play in both light and dark, both in a real sense and also within our mind.
Thank you Nathan! Gift the wick was a line I struggled with. I was trying to paint the picture of striking a match...whisper, bow, strike. Makes me happy that stuck with you!
Yes, to gift the wick" , I felt you were sacrificing the wick, as some would do to honor, or appease their Gods. So few words, but full of hope and a bit of a gift to yourself. It felt good t me.
I love writing by candlelight. I usually write 30 minutes before the sun comes up (at least in the winter). A candle is a must, and some music to fit the mood helps too (my go to is a band called “this will destroy you”...)
I usually light a small candle in the morning while drinking my first coffee. The imagery of those lines made me think of that morning coffee and what the light from the candle does each day. Great poem.
Light can purge the conscious nightmares we allow our minds to torment ourselves with. The question is why we let it, but is there ever an answer or only guesses.
When I was in my early 20s I had a reoccurring nightmare. waking terrified, and purposely stayed awake. to avoid falling back into it. One day a friend and I walked into a local artist shop, and there at the entrance sat a painting of my nightmare. I nudged at my friend, to show him. He made a joke. I laughed out loud, and I never had the dream again.
That's super interesting. There is something about seeing our fears right in front of us, naming them, and smiling at them that causes the grip they may have on us to loosen...
That is interesting. The dreams originate within us, so when we smile at our fears, are we smiling at ourself. That may be a way to reassure self, that we can keep self safe. Just an off the cuff idea. I have a theory about fear. I guess I should write about that on Substack soon.
Hallo to you, fellow language traveller! It’s so good to look up from the trenches to find a kindred explorer of poetry and meaning and living.
I particularly appreciate you giving voice to the sleeplessness and lilting candlelight that make appearances on stage at this point in the story. I have crafted these bifurcated sleep rituals over the past five or six years. It hasn’t yet produced that spark that becomes a poem, so it’s good to see how that might come about.
Live into them, I think. Don’t wish they were otherwise. They’re like house guests: it’s best to be a generous host and to enjoy what their company brings. Just know they won’t be staying with you forever.
Practically speaking, just know when to leave the bed, go make a cup of herbal tea, and see what keeping watch in the quiet is like. Try to stay away from doing anything on a screen or anything that’s activating. You’ve got the candle thing down. Sometimes you learn nothing from it and you’re just exhausted and miserable as the day follows hard and unfolds. Sometimes you fall back asleep and by some miracle the rest of the day comes normally. I tried to stop fighting my unsleep, and it got better (I still am some kind of insomniac, of course, but it stopped getting me down).
Brian, this was both poignant and felt very personal. Sleep has always been problematic for me. I fall asleep quickly, but wake up in the middle of the night, eventually descended into a new day hours earlier than I planned. I too like to use that unplanned time for reflection. I’ve been listening to what the wakefulness is trying to tell me. Thank you for this. Robert
Ah, the time between the waking hours, when ideas are fleeting, yet the muse is willing. To snatch up that gossamer thread and weave it into words, it's what we must do, even if the candle burns on both ends. I was reminded of Delmore Schwartz's "Calmly We Walk Through This April's Day" esp. the last stanza.
Absolutely gorgeous poem, Brian. Insomnia is a plague right now. The light from a single small flame can fill a large space. These words are a candle in the dark.
Thanks Ann, I’m glad you enjoyed. Sorry to hear you’re struggling with insomnia. I had a bout this fall (which is what this came out of)...it’s nuts what the minds tells you in the middle of the night...
Oh so lovely, Brian. I feel as though I should light a candle for a while this evening!
Always a great idea 🕯️
and I need light now,
light to whisper
into shadowed corners,
This really caught me, how you described light as a sound. The flicker of a candle and the light it produces certainly has this sound, this whisper. Really liked that. Lovely writing.
Thanks David 😊
Beautiful! Beautiful! Beautiful! We give the dark so much power, but it can be dispelled with a small flame and then we can watch the “shadows dance joyously”. Great work as always, Brian!
Thank you! May we sleep well tonight, and if not, have a candle to light...
"A match whispers
its magic glow"
"shadow dancing
joyously
in every corner"
I love all the visual aspects of this poem. There's such beautiful longing in this poem, and a faith that the light of you life will return. Until then, shadow dancing.
Thanks Troy, I’m glad you enjoyed!
"of sleep's abandonment"
and
"to gift the wick"
are my two favourite lines here.
A lovely poem, Brian. I love the notion that the sun hasn't abandoned us, even when it seems so.
This is a really visual poem for me. I know the feeling of lying there awake at night, longing for dawn, even if just for the feeling that it's OK to now get up and begin the day.
It's also very vivid at how shadow's can play in both light and dark, both in a real sense and also within our mind.
Thank you Nathan! Gift the wick was a line I struggled with. I was trying to paint the picture of striking a match...whisper, bow, strike. Makes me happy that stuck with you!
It certainly did. You got there with the line most definitely 😁
Yes, to gift the wick" , I felt you were sacrificing the wick, as some would do to honor, or appease their Gods. So few words, but full of hope and a bit of a gift to yourself. It felt good t me.
Excellent!
Beautiful poem to mouth out and visualize. It makes me want to write by candle light and let the magic happen …
I love writing by candlelight. I usually write 30 minutes before the sun comes up (at least in the winter). A candle is a must, and some music to fit the mood helps too (my go to is a band called “this will destroy you”...)
Thanks for reading!
I know this feeling and shadow's dance. Thanks, Brian!
Here’s hoping you won’t know it tonight 😄
Waking at odd hours bothers me
I like this part:
"light to whisper
into shadowed corners,"
I usually light a small candle in the morning while drinking my first coffee. The imagery of those lines made me think of that morning coffee and what the light from the candle does each day. Great poem.
Thank you Neil, glad you are here!
Light can purge the conscious nightmares we allow our minds to torment ourselves with. The question is why we let it, but is there ever an answer or only guesses.
“Consciousness nightmares” is a great way to describe the ruminating mind...
I suspect every creative has OCD.
Somewhere on the spectrum...
The best ones I think
When I was in my early 20s I had a reoccurring nightmare. waking terrified, and purposely stayed awake. to avoid falling back into it. One day a friend and I walked into a local artist shop, and there at the entrance sat a painting of my nightmare. I nudged at my friend, to show him. He made a joke. I laughed out loud, and I never had the dream again.
That's super interesting. There is something about seeing our fears right in front of us, naming them, and smiling at them that causes the grip they may have on us to loosen...
That is interesting. The dreams originate within us, so when we smile at our fears, are we smiling at ourself. That may be a way to reassure self, that we can keep self safe. Just an off the cuff idea. I have a theory about fear. I guess I should write about that on Substack soon.
Hallo to you, fellow language traveller! It’s so good to look up from the trenches to find a kindred explorer of poetry and meaning and living.
I particularly appreciate you giving voice to the sleeplessness and lilting candlelight that make appearances on stage at this point in the story. I have crafted these bifurcated sleep rituals over the past five or six years. It hasn’t yet produced that spark that becomes a poem, so it’s good to see how that might come about.
Thanks! Any wise words from you for those night-awake hours?
Live into them, I think. Don’t wish they were otherwise. They’re like house guests: it’s best to be a generous host and to enjoy what their company brings. Just know they won’t be staying with you forever.
Practically speaking, just know when to leave the bed, go make a cup of herbal tea, and see what keeping watch in the quiet is like. Try to stay away from doing anything on a screen or anything that’s activating. You’ve got the candle thing down. Sometimes you learn nothing from it and you’re just exhausted and miserable as the day follows hard and unfolds. Sometimes you fall back asleep and by some miracle the rest of the day comes normally. I tried to stop fighting my unsleep, and it got better (I still am some kind of insomniac, of course, but it stopped getting me down).
It needs must be remarked that if you have children, all bets are off. Just give in to your sleepless overlords.
Truth.
Brian, this was both poignant and felt very personal. Sleep has always been problematic for me. I fall asleep quickly, but wake up in the middle of the night, eventually descended into a new day hours earlier than I planned. I too like to use that unplanned time for reflection. I’ve been listening to what the wakefulness is trying to tell me. Thank you for this. Robert
I love your statement “I’ve been listening to what the wakefulness is trying to tell me.” A great framework...
Just beautiful
Thank you!
Ah, the time between the waking hours, when ideas are fleeting, yet the muse is willing. To snatch up that gossamer thread and weave it into words, it's what we must do, even if the candle burns on both ends. I was reminded of Delmore Schwartz's "Calmly We Walk Through This April's Day" esp. the last stanza.
Thanks for sharing that poem, I had not read that before. It’s lovely with so many beautiful questions. Thanks for reading!
Love this poem. There is much that candlelight gives us that electric lights do not. The warmth and comfort.
Totally! So much warmth and comfort in candlelight, dawn, and evening light.