The Flame I

The flame flickers and
outside there is
steady, quiet rain - the
quad is silent and
a few birds sing
despite their wetting - inside
there is benison: peace
within, a placidity
unknown to recent times,
consigned to history and
resurrected.  I am more
myself in this moment
than I have ever been and I have
him to thank for such
divine living for the
quell of heart's yearning
the stilling grief, the
quiet fire burning
in the steady soul, the
living pain.
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