Candlemas

CANDLEMAS


This Candlemas moon,
pale, full-ladled
poured over bowls
of yellow violets
honors our old, wild mother,
keeper of the ancient fires,
maiden, mother, crone,
the wax,
the wick,
the flame.


Mary came to the temple
to be purified.
Simeon divined in her child's eyes
redemption and salvation
of a dystopian world,
matter, energy, light,
the wax,
the wick,
the flame.


I place a candle for peace
in each window
not enough light
for every soldier slain.
Can calm be shaped
with herbs and apples,
when murmured prayers
become buried memories,
body, mind, spirit,
the wax,
the wick,
the flame.


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