Consuming the illumination | Now I patiently wait

I tenderly move the tendons,

acrimoniously supporting the crackling bones,

of my left arm, directing my index finger,

towards the flickering flare, of a lit candle,


I enclose it… pinch it within my thumb, and

the aforementioned finger,

it percolates inside me, and I feel light,

having consumed this illumination

for my dire heart,


but I am patient

for it to make a semblance, and smolder the walls,

of the dilapidated yore, thawing me throughout,

into the wax heaps, of a rejuvenated identity,


though it would be malformed, yet welcomed,

because there is splendor in normalcy,

but our true nature relies at

what turns out to be the end of things


Image source

The prompt today at dVerse(the last of this year) features the candles, light and winter solstice as its theme.

27 thoughts on “Consuming the illumination | Now I patiently wait

    • I am always embarrassed whenever you mention a word like ‘sir’ in your feedback. I am but of an age with such a meager experience of life that that word/reference can not be applied to me. You are like a teacher to me… I look at the work of every poet at dVerse to learn something. I am just a novice and so, I request you not to use that word.


  1. but our true nature relies at

    what turns out to be the end of things….ha… food for thought in this one…love the idea how the flame develops and continues its path..


  2. Glenn Buttkus says:

    When I attempt such a maneuver, I spit on my fingers first so as to hear the sizzle & reduce the burn; nice poem, Anmol; for me truly symbolic, perhaps through religion, perhaps through perseverance & enlightenment. We are in lesson with each lifetime, & can only retain shadows of prior learning–so through our poetry we rediscover shards of the Truth we both have forgotten & yet have retained.


  3. Oh my goodness, what a FANTASTIC take on the prompt – light within. I love the whole idea of “consum(ing) this illumination for my dire heart.” Oh, me too! Ditto the rejuvenated identity. I relate to this poem. Great take on the prompt!


  4. Excellent words here, they were jarring in such an unexpected context (crackling bones) and then the end was so welcoming. “the aforementioned finger” very cool, well done.


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