In a chilling poem of simple yet intense metaphors, the internationally-beloved poet Constantine Cavafy illuminates—quite literally—the scope of one’s life in the spectrum of candlelight. He explains how the days of our future burn before us like a bright line of candles. Similarly, the days of our past are a line of extinguished candles behind us, cold and melted and broken and some of them still smoking. Sad, haunting forms; ghosts of what was and what could have been.
“I do not want to look at them; their form saddens me,
and it saddens me to recall their first light.
I look ahead at my lit candles.
I do not want to turn back, lest I see and shudder
at how fast the dark line lengthens,
at how fast the extinguished candles multiply.”
In the spirit of the holidays, where the most blessed amongst us have got firelight, candlelight, and thermal electrical light to warm our bodies and our souls, we must remember to count our blessings just as we count our candles. Our days are numbered, but our blessings are interminable. Keeping the shadows in perspective, one learns to savor the light. Knowing of the darkness and the ephemeral nature of life, one may appreciate the glow of hope and the timelessness of love. Walk forward and take care that every candle you leave behind is a straight-standing ghost, chilled but unscarred by time—one that will not haunt you, but instead will guide you. Walk forward, and shed your warmth on those who need it: shed your warmth on all.
"Angreek87"
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