A love poem I wrote a while back:
SITTING QUIETLY PONDERING THE MEANING OF IT ALL
I SIT QUIETLY IN MY CHAIR
STARING SOFTLY
AT THE SHADOWS ON THE WALL.
DOWN THE HALLWAY OF MY HEART
AN OIL LAMP IS BURNING
THE SHADOWS DON'T SEEM TO FLICKER,
NOR DOES THE WICK OR THE LIGHT.
THE OIL RISING FROM THE BOWL
NEVER SEEMS TO END.
THE LAMP IS NOT FILLED
WITH AN OIL YOU MIGHT SUSPECT.
IT IS FILLED WITH A DIFFERENT OIL.
AN ELIXER I NEVER SPENT A PENNY FOR.
NEVER HAD TO WASTE A SINGLE DROP.
A FISH OF SPIRIT I NEVER CAUGHT.
I NEVER HAD TO GO WISHING FOR IT EITHER,
FOR IT WAS GIVEN TO ME
THE MOMENT OF MY BIRTH.
THE OIL OF MY LAMPLIGHT
HAS MY NAME ON IT,
BUT YOU CAN BARELY MAKE IT OUT
WHILE ITS STILL IN THE BOWL.
WHEN IT RISES UP AND WETS THE WICK
THEN YOU CAN SEE IT QUITE CLEARLY
IT CURLS UP THE COTTON WICK
LIKE A SLITHERING LITTLE SNAKE
THE WICK GIVES IT UP GRUDGINGLY I CAN TELL.
BUT IT MUST: IT IS THE AIR (breath, breath of Great Spirit)
THAT TAKES IT TO HEART
THE WICK IS LIT AND BURSTS INTO FLAME
SENDING OUT ITS LIGHT.
I CAN'T PUT THE FLAME OUT ONCE ITS BEEN LIT, HOWEVER
FOR I AM THE ETERNAL FLAME
I COME FROM AN OIL LAMP
THAT HAS AN INCREDIBLE HISTORY BEHIND IT TOO
TO BE QUITE HONEST WITH YOU,
I HAVE NO "REAL" NAME ATTACHED.
YOU SEE, THE OIL IN THE LAMP,
IS THE SOURCE OF THE ETERNAL FLAME
AND THE OIL THAT KEEPS IT LIT
ARE ONE AND THE SAME.
ITS THE ANCIENT LOVER FROM A FAR
UNIVERSAL, UNCONDITIONAL LOVE
CALLING OUT ALL OF OUR NAMES
IN THAT ONE SINGLE BREATH
THAT KINDLES MY FLAME
KEEPS MY HEART BEATING.
HOW ABOUT YOUR"S?