'bout a man unknown

A lamp is welcome comfort
for travelers nearing home,
or exploring written wonders
in a nestled corner nook –
and little thought is given
to the source of splendid light.

Ever ready – predicable;
a sudden strike – flaring bright,
just past vesper time for some –
then steady glow, as you know,
with warmth and flickered laughter.
Give some thought then to its soul.

There is a source of power
unseen ‘neath the comfort vessel –
gold pristine oil, thrice refined,
and filtered by strife and pain,
‘till free of guile and more divine,
from seeds picked by careful hand.

Then there is the wick, of course,
that must be trimmed a trifle –
and nurtured with loving care
lest the flame burn too brightly
or we curse the diminished glow,
still a faint gift of soul and light.

Nay! The Lantern’s of all three –
the Source, the Body and the Light;
that gives such simple pleasure
because it can and therefore must –
for those who see its silence
as a companion to the dawn.