It Is On This Eve ...

"I will honor Christmas in my heart,

and try to keep it all the year."

Charles Dickens

My menorah is a permanent fixture on the mantle and candlesticks are arranged throughout my home.  As beeswax dribbles uncontrolled, I am made aware of my emotions dripping into a deeper space.  There is a beauty to the tapers with their waxed designs, bringing me closer to the images of the Divine.  It is nearing Christmas, and on this eve, I escape into the safety of my heart.

Candles bear witness to both light and the shadow.  The wave of movement is like the quickening of life to one side and then the other.  The flame is a reminder of hope while the hot wax will burn if we reach out absentmindedly. Fragrance is of no importance, as the simple presence of this illumination warms my soul.

It is on this eve I have often felt most lonely.  It doesn't matter who gathers around, I feel a heavy absence which cannot be fully explained.  I tend to zone out, my eyes caught by the candle flame, and as material things fall away, I begin to slide down the spiral becoming lost even to myself.