By The Candlelight

By the candlelight~-*-~
there is a word
sweeter than mother
home or heaven
that word is liberty
~-*-~

Epitaph of Matilda Joslyn Gage

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In this darkest of all nights
candle, candle by my side
dearest candle bring me light.

Do you remember the summer day
when the tide of history roared back
the dreadful word that washed away
all our colors, shapes and patterns
knots we tied, stitches we placed
with heart and soul by the candlelight.

Now in a world of black-and-white
veils are stacking on a newfound vice
soon bygone from fragile boys' sight
unseen and undone we find ourselves
in gloomy shadows by the candlelight
moonlight our close-lipped witness.

Know, unless the sun's become an inmate
and the clouds above bolted and locked
we vital shapes refuse to cast no shade
and always will here by the candlelight
where dreams dance on the prison walls
that ball and chain will rust in time.

The artist's brush has lost its right
and left the streets where once was lifelike moths drawn by the candlelight
bold lines applied in signal red
and ancient green ever and anon
the hallucination of deliverance.

As now all fears wear camouflage
we the brave sit by the candlelight
uncaged from our tight corsage
we sisters of a sprinkled kind
flash our sanguine glares
like stars upon the midnight sky.

As I say bye-bye my candlelight
for now if only in our sleeping minds
the morning when the wick'd died
and sunlight warmed our faces
we'd guide from mouth to mouth
one word that we call Liberty.

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