We burn candles in our house.
It's kind of a tradition.
Not so much for the light they give,
Although the glow is nice.
We light them for the cleansing
They provide; the sweet aroma
Of vanilla, lilac, potpourri or spice.
Every fragrance you imagine
In your wildest dreams,
Plus a few of which you're not aware,
Placed in candles, sealed in wax
Until the fire screams,
Insisting you release them in the air.
Slowly melting, softly dying,
Giving of itself;
Flame that flickers, dancing to and fro.
Mesmerizing, hypnotizing
As it casts its spell.
There's something special in a candle's glow.
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