Candle Land

There is a stillness in the night that is almost palpable. The glow of the Candles is surreal, and it seems that there is something they are trying to convey to me.

Something through their flickering. Something through the shadows they throw upon the walls. Something that I know already. Something that I have, perhaps, forgotten. Or something that perhaps I have chosen to forget… that something that lingers in the windmills of my mind. But perhaps I can not remember what, because I really have not forgotten it.

The shadows that the Candles throw are truly mesmerising. It seems they are not talking to me anymore, but amongst themselves.

One, the one that stands in the centre, the Green One, seems to be most talkative. She dances in the jar she sits within, and does seem a tad bit restless. She mingles with the others, with her Green melon smell.

The White One on the left (on the Green One’s right), Vanilla, is rather surly. He seems to be just be fulfilling his destiny tonight, … his destiny to burn tonight. He is rather apathetic and disinterested to all that is going on in Candle Land. Not for him the Melon’s gossip, and not for him, the Azure One’s serenity.

Yes, the Azure One is enviably, undoubtedly serene. Calm, with the scent of citrus and lavender, he sits there quietly, absorbing the Green One’s chatter, smiling self-indulgently. Even the White One’s surliness does not affect him.

Together, White, Azure and Green form a compelling story that only they know of, a story they want to share with me. But I don’t think I have the ability to understand Candle Talk. At least, not yet.

However, surprisingly, I am not irritated with my inability to understand the Candle dialogue. It is a dialogue that echoes within the windmills of my wind, and I respond to it. Without understanding it. It’s pure submission, it think, of the purest kind.

Acceptance and with it an understanding… a comprehension of something I may not fully understand, but something that I derive comfort – dare I say joy? – from.