The Lantern Burns, A Poem of Light, Silence, and Endurance
A reflection on patience, gratitude, and the solace of a flame in darkness.
The lantern burns in a margin
of dusk
steady where boldness and silence meet.
Each pulse stains
the night’s dense canvas
with modest clarity,
as if truth belonged
only to the circumspect.
I trace that beacon
drawn by persistence,
by the silence that levels
between flame and shadow.
No ornament, no rhapsody
crowds its lonely radius.
instead, a kind of solace
distilled from patience
Lingers beside the
emptiness of the past.
No myth animates
the lamp it is presence
it is something noticed
in slow approach,
a hush swelling
around what remains unsure.
Here, I stand within its keeping,
gathering faint color,
letting the small light
mark silence gently
on my hands.
The heart moves
uneventful, aware
toward what endures,
and leaves gratitude
in the slender reach
of gold.
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
Tim is an Appalachian poet and cookbook author. He writes about rural life, family, and the places he grew up around. His poetry and essays have appeared in Bloodroot and Coal Dust, his latest book.
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Comments (3)
I love how this started in the margin. It can only lead to calm and wisdom from this moment forward. I love the imagery of chasing the beacon. But I can't forget that warm pull towards who truth belonged to. Lonely radius. 😲 Loving how you draw attention to what it embodies by saying: by saying it is presence. You even went as far as studying your hands. That's dedication. Of gold. Feels like the door closed softly. Or the curtain was drawn. This was outstanding in every way possible. It felt like you sat there with a literal lamp and studied your whole being before putting pen to paper and then finger to a blank screen. 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾🤗❤️
The imagery here feels both tender and timeless.
Beautiful, and melancholy. I loved the color filling in as the light grows. What a great image.