Candles Of A Star Poem by Samuel Whitton

An ocean of candles,
a sea of souls.
The light is ours,
born of the soul.

Threads woven between candles,
thoughts forming waves.
An ocean of candles,
An ocean of light.

In the web of dreams,
we share our suffering.
The dead never lost,
our minds persevere.

A star alone in the void,
outshining all else.
Our influence manifests,
through the dark fabric of old.

Our scientists found truth,
our pioneers found light.
Our thoughts, threads,
woven between minds.

Without the light we cannot see,
what is the truth we have not learned.
Our libraries filled with myths of old.
Those dead thoughts, from ignorance, it tells.

The light we have discovered yet,
does not make us omni-competent,
does not give forethought or future-sight,
does not give us souls of greater import.

Our light gives us power,
power we come to deserve.
Not power we live to own,
but power we own to live.

Surrounded in the void,
hardly alone, yet unseen.
Our voices heard by few,
and few we give our gift of truth.

Our gift is given to minds who understand,
those who receive are already profound.
Light given in compensation, is a greater gift,
then power given, without truth to comprehend.