Three Candles

I was among you,
not without memory,
a prophecy hue of three:
purple, pink, sometimes blue.
I know not the icy white.

What’s coming? Peace?
I know it not to be true.
Yet, be among the blue?
Fear the icy white,
lit too soon??

I was a pink child.
Learned ‘the truth’:
Others suffer the blue.
The shush, shhh
‘Do not fright’…

yet, a child soul in flight
dies ever-more
each and every night…
until
purple, pink, white alight?

Learned it true —
the advent of blue.
A pale candle that flickers,
melts, is smoothed
before tunneling shorter, thicker.

Because you
turn out the light,
I reason my right —
brighter burn, without sight,
‘Pink? Pink?!’ I call late into the night.

11.24.23
30 lines, free rhyming
Writer’s Cramp prompt: title plus category spiritual.

I have a child that struggles with depression just like me. I must be strong for them, knowing what waits.