Creed

The candle flame stammers,
then sings through the pane,
pushing back the boundaries
of darkness, and night returns
to where it was. I believe in
night, in hand-dipped candles
that drip onto sills, in Orion,
in the frost that fills windows
and the sun that returns the
frost to the air. I believe in
Christmas, in moon, in stars
so bright that we follow them
to birthplaces, mothers who
love their children, children
who jump like live sparks
around the tree, and gifts
that can not be opened, only
received. These are the things
I would give you: this darkness,
this light, this all that is.

~ Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer