A poem by Amy (used by permission)

Sparks

Though the darkness is deep
And the mists swirl and blind,
I have an advantage,
A wonderful find.
My sparks in my hands
Create just enough light
To show me my path
Past humanity’s blight.
I found them myself.
No, I don’t know quite where,
And, no, you can’t have them.
There’s too little to spare.
Oh, this light suits me fine
For the life that I lead.
Ask someone for help?
My friend, there’s no need.
Yes, I am at peace
And have no need to pout,
For I guide myself.

Oh, no!

They went out!

“Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks: walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of my hand; ye shall lie down in sorrow.” (Isaiah 50:11)

Amy

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