I bought a candle stand
Dreaming I would place honey gold wax atop it
Warm, its light extending an invitation to share mind’s intimacies
Unpackaging the contraption,
I turned the wood base upside-down, pulled at the tape
But, dislodging, the glass case
Another attempt at allowing chaos to thrive over order
The broken crystals, one long shard
That the unexplainable rush of you overcoming my spirit
May be my joy, but not yours
That things, only, are connected, that never, is another’s mind fully known
I sweep tiny salt and pepper crystals
Into the bin, shaking out books and my old stuffed dog (caught in the spray)
Each piece of glass an embodiment of hope, rising, again and again
Continually pushed and pushed down, an attempt to refrain from becoming a source of our entropy
But isn’t life bigger than this?
Didn’t the universe form through explosion?
The candle sits on my desk. Yet, it is infinitely far from me.
I am not sure whether to
Laugh or cry
At all this absurdity
It is strange, being human
To have the ability to connect strangers across continents, to build towers into the sky and the semblance of a person through code, to send probes to Mars and transplant new genes and organs into people
Out of fear We are apt to mute the vibrancy of what it means to feel deeply
Of what it means to be human
What is selfless and what is selfish?
Tears stream from my eyes as I smile
I am a doorway
There is a candle that flickers with warmth inside me