Candle Holders

Faithful to routine, ritual, rites,
they approach the teapot, the altar, the hearth.
They stand vigil, sitting in veiled darkness,
by dim, warm candlelight.

They read and write, they pray and chant,
for the healing
of the home planet,
for the freeing
of humanity’s humanity.

In these mystical morns,
fire consumes wick, wax.
Finally, the flames themselves, in self-immolation.
Fear, fret, foolish fantasies fly off too
in the faint final puff.