Rekindled

I was once as big as life.

Together we were larger.

We dined in grand halls,

shared quiet evenings at home,

wandered beaches and forests,

where stories unfolded like whispers in the breeze.

 

We sat for hours, gazing into each other,

contemplating the mysteries of life.

You’d offer me sips of your coffee, your bourbon.

I lit your path, cooked your meals

no one could roast a marshmallow like me.

 

Through every season, we were one.

In me, you found the divine, the light within all things.

I gave you warmth, and with each flicker,

you gave me life.

 

But our story was not without trials.

There were nights when darkness lingered,

and the cold settled in where you had left me.

 

One night, you tried to extinguish my flame,

your purpose sharp, your intention clear.

I stood alone in the biting night,

left to wonder

Is this the end of our great romance?

The memories, the meals, the love we shared gone?

 

All that remained was a faint ember,

barely alive beneath a sky of distant stars.

Only strange visitors passed beneath the moonlight,

bringing no wisdom, no solace.

Hope slipped through the cracks of the night.

 

Then, when I thought I was lost,

you returned.

With tears in your eyes and hands full of kindling,

you knelt beside me,

breathing life into my fading glow.

 

Slowly, I healed.

The warmth crept back into me,

until I blazed once more

humbled, but whole.

We are together once again.