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"Candles and Cares" by ~proud-2-b-rainbow
Light a candle




Breathe out, but don't



blow it out




It flicker and
:thumb41981117::thumb157945405:


breathing stops,



hold it in,
:thumb193793063:
don't let the little flame die.




It's like this everywhere



breakable,
:thumb190145113:


fragile,
:thumb71345827:
like a shining soap bubble.





Butterfly wings are easily
:thumb126107812:




pinned




and yet, they still fly




higher without fear.




Now is that moment

:thumb197864184:without fear.


It wavers.
Fingertips stroke the flames,
:thumb121042022:
fanning them gently.



It falls over, the candle, and




sets fire
:thumb113968426:

to the stack of papers sitting there



but there is no fear.
:thumb160241585:
Not in the eyes that sparkle


in the light


of the now roaring blaze.




Start small.




Grow.


The fires of our hearts are




fanned

Fanning the FlameFanning the Flame
It is evening in a college dorm. It is a messy room, with clothes, books, papers, student trappings flung where they were last used by the main character, batousaijin. He is anxiously awaiting someone to come online for an instant message, snickchick, the love of his life who has moved back home to Missouri so that her parents can take care of her while she recovers from a sickness that causes occasional fainting spells, weakness, and pain. Batousaijin spells meticulously. He might be an English-major, or maybe he's trying to diminish the opportunities of snickchick misunderstanding what he means to say. Snickchick doe

and we will rise in a rush
:thumb162709946:


a whoosh



and there it is!

A new day




A shining new day!
:thumb189354255:

Rain will put the fire out




eventually

but today, it will shed its heat,

:thumb73513074:



its warmth,





its love







to those who need it.





And we must do the same.

:thumb171237621:Please fav this wonderful writing here! ->

Candles and CaresLight a candle
Breathe out, but don't
blow it out
It flicker and
breathing stops,
hold it in,
don't let the little flame die.
It's like this everywhere
breakable,
fragile,
like a shining soap bubble.
Butterfly wings are easily
pinned
and yet, they still fly
higher without fear.
Now is that moment
without fear.
It wavers.
Fingertips stroke the flames,
fanning them gently.
It falls over, the candle, and
sets fire
to the stack of papers sitting there
but there is no fear.
Not in the eyes that sparkle
in the light
of the now roaring blaze.
Start small.
Grow.
The fires of our hearts are
fanned
and we will rise
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