Stars Burn At Their Brightest * Poem by Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light)

I am the candle flame
which burns brightest
before last flickering moments
of struggling heart-torn life.
Each day a part
of me is consumed
in differing
though measured step.
Burned out forever.
Slowly I am drowning
wick is near liquefied end.
I’m falling without footing
or foundation beneath.

Can I exist a stub
upon discarded altar
of a God who did not see
or answer prayer?
Until dismal day
he deems fit, to clear
waxen dregs aside.
To be forgotten
as I was in last
fitful moments
when life
spluttered out
within me.

I am mesmerized moth
which dances
the most divine
on a starlit night
as wonder
fills the clear
star laid heavens.

Set against
a satin black night
which threatens
to swallow eternally
all within its veldt
stars burn
at their brightest.

So momentary moth
lives, loves, dances,
for an eternity
within winged magic;
of such a single night.
Then falls embracing
its greatest moment
a singled lifeless void.

But it dies at peace
at one with God
harmonic heavens love all things.
Only burn body remains
as dormant husk we see
to form elements in new beings.

For its essence
fled swiftly
to a more perfect plane.
It is only we
of human form
that embrace bewitching flame.
Then remain as tormented
empty husks forever.

Sands do fall slowly
as always
which gather
to contain life’s span.
But no joy
is found
in them rather
we would.
Sear them all apart
in a single
thunderous breath.


Copyright © Terence George Craddock