The Candle ...a poem by Amitha Anikuttan
The Candle
Roaming along the corridors
of a grand mansion
Created by a great magician
I was surrounded by a companion
Who waxed my ears
With fuss and flurry and
Veiled my vision
With the deep dark hands.
I moved on aimlessly
A silence diluted the buzzing.
A brightness lightened the darkness,
Revealing the rhythm and sparkle of my wings.
A deeper, daring, brighter world...
The one stood there
White and tall
Wearing it's glowing long hat
Over it's black narrow head
Who made the transformations.
It went on answering
In a flicker or a flutter
Or in a silence
To the tricky tangled questions
Of the traversing wind.
It's body melted
It's height shortened
It's head lowered
And made a white hard layer
That remained at the base,
Until it's long hat sank
With the last melting drop
Leaving a white silky
Waft of smoke
Floating in the air
- Extracted from the buzzing murmurings of a fly who saw a candle
Amitha Anikuttan, XI B
Roaming along the corridors
of a grand mansion
Created by a great magician
I was surrounded by a companion
Who waxed my ears
With fuss and flurry and
Veiled my vision
With the deep dark hands.
I moved on aimlessly
A silence diluted the buzzing.
A brightness lightened the darkness,
Revealing the rhythm and sparkle of my wings.
A deeper, daring, brighter world...
The one stood there
White and tall
Wearing it's glowing long hat
Over it's black narrow head
Who made the transformations.
It went on answering
In a flicker or a flutter
Or in a silence
To the tricky tangled questions
Of the traversing wind.
It's body melted
It's height shortened
It's head lowered
And made a white hard layer
That remained at the base,
Until it's long hat sank
With the last melting drop
Leaving a white silky
Waft of smoke
Floating in the air
- Extracted from the buzzing murmurings of a fly who saw a candle
Amitha Anikuttan, XI B