the quiet of the end of a day has settled,
my feet are up and i sit in silence while the little ones dream.
there is peace here.
the candle burns in the window lighting a way, a welcome, a warmth back to me.
this man who works hard and long.
who will walk through that door with a grin as big as the night sky...
he'll be home.
those flames, they burn all over. flicker strong in the hushed air of peaked ceilings and a soul-baring mama.
i watch them, those young eyes, as i bend over each wick and a small tender flame ignites.
all three of them stand entranced,
they breathe soft.
He calls Himself the Light of the World.
He is known as the Prince of Peace.
and bedlam beckons.
but light a small wick?
invite light into a dark, crowded space?
peace enters in.
we quiet in the Presence of One Who is Holy and True.
hearts calm in the dance of His Flame.
the air is still, outside and in,
frost waits to lay down her icy head,
but here inside, Peace settles in and waits for the weary to come home...
and i give thanks on this fourth day of this month that finds me here...with the flames that dance.