Candles

I’ve been thinking ‘bout all the candles in my life. There have been so many. Too many to count.

I’ve always been rather fond of candles. Mesmerized by flickering flame. The heat. Bewitched by the warm glow.

I’ve lit candles when storms crashed trees to earth. When electricity became nothing more than a hoped-for remembrance.

I’ve lit candles as a precursor to love. Scented they were. I’ve circled tubs with candles galore as a prelude to bathing a beauty. I’ve kissed my way to ecstasy to the scent of vanilla courtesy of a candle-maker’s art.

I’ve read poetry by candlelight.

I’ve experienced poetry by candlelight.

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It was during my first adventure in Paris that I finally accorded candles their rightful due. There were the cathedrals: Notre Dame of the magnificent flying buttresses, Saint-Chapelle of the glowing glass, Sacre Coeur (that glistening white hive where I heard angelic voices unlike any other) and Saint Sulpice, the cathedral of the quaint towers. I visited them all. I prayed within each. How can one NOT pray in places such as these? These cathedrals were hewn from stone by pious hands over the course of decades...centuries. The faith expressed without/within can neither be denied nor dismissed. Regardless of one's theological belief, these truly are holy places. Humans sacrificed and suffered (sometimes died) to elevate those spires to sky.

These are places that cannot be denied. These are places where the soul soars.

And it came to pass that I took to lighting votive candles for those I love in each and every cathedral and church I came to explore. There was a certain order to my ritual. First lit was a candle for my father, then my father-in law (both departed), then my mothers, my lovers, my friends and mentors.

It was no small matter, this lighting of the candles. Each cost me a Euro or two. Each required a prayer. Currency was crammed in poor-box. And the prayers? Well, the prayers took thought and time. My knees can attest to that.

It was thought and time well spent.

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