Candle Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

Some said in simple reverence for daily graces,
many unspoken from sobbing hearts
of destitute souls in despair;
still others whispered on behalf
of loved ones somewhere.

As they cling to the same hope for intervention, a miracle,
a bit of comfort or guidance,
aching spirits on their knees reach out to a God
who might still be in the business of moving mountains.
With their wounds and fears they bleed, beg, bargain and plead...

Not this! Not now! Not ready!
O God, hold me steady
see my need
and please, please hear my prayer
from out of this darkness.