We Are Not the Flame

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We Are Not the Flame

By Jane Tawel

February 8, 2022

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We are not the flame.

We are but a flicker,

and a flicker, and a flicker, and a flicker after that.

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I am not one name,

but many I have worn,

like coats of many colors,

some beautiful, some torn.

And yet the garment is all One,

and I am just the tassels,

just one small voice amongst great passels,

and yet not passing-on– not all–

and yet not passing on.

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Eternity, we deeply feel,

must be in us, must be real.

And yet, we know we die.

We pass away to live not yet another day.

But what I do, what these hands make,

not for myself, but someone else’s sake,

will last, will conquer even death,

and even with my dying breath,

I hope, I pray, that I can say:

“The Flame. The Flame! I see it now!”

And some way, some how,

beyond– yet still me–

my little flickers of The Flame,

will live on, eternally.

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© Jane Tawel, 2022