(note, this is actually from 1988. It’s one of my earliest poems.)
A candle contains all colors, and the promise
Of night to come.
Threads of color bright
And dark. Strands of life; tales told.
Purest silver wizard, fellow weaver of strands.
Crimson dragon, fiery phoenix.
Unicorn black, and white.
Emerald forest sheltering elf,
Countless others.
Join the colors; weave the tapestry.
A fairy tale? Call it rather
An alternate reality – where colors
Are brighter, and darker,
Edges sharper, love stronger.
Where the battle against evil,
Or inertia, or entropy,
May be fought and won, and even
A loss may be a victory. For the greyness
Of entropy, of ending, must come;
The universe is racing towards its doom,
Expanding into nothingness, and we are
Powerless to prevent.
We can but strengthen, maintain, heal, create…
Join me, weave the colors and
Thereby, light a candle against
The chill.
*****
M.A. Mohanraj
1988