A Handful of Renaissance

semi-shaped and semi-shapeless
shape changing under
the heat, which prevails now
remnants of the shape it once had
a shape recognizable in the mind by the mind’s process of filling in gaps
when it knows what to fill with
my eyes trace in leading and trailing methods the paths which running wax shall make
or already has
the hot wax tingles so upon my skin
and as the heat dissipates
the wax cools and hardens in a posthumous effort to secure its place
retrogressing through its steps
I find its origin in the fire
the warmth
the beauty
blue and orange and white
in a flickering dancing rainbow of heat
and beauty
and renaissance
handheld renaissance
I watch as the world of the fire
and the world of the wax
become separate worlds and one again
and then again
handheld renaissance
rebirth and reform in palm-sized glory
helping me to minimize the world
in my eyes
and enjoy the omnipotence of the situation
it is but a candle
it is more than the world
it is all in the palm of my hand
such splendor
such intrigue
such ease of manipulation
I can shape it
I can end it
I can begin it again
I can bring renaissance
And Armageddon
In this fragile little world of wax
I can do nothing and everything
Yet I cannot hold it to her.


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