"Hearth Shrine” by Jenne Micale

O Hearth Mother, the tiny light on your shrine

dances and holds. You teach me: one candle

can dispel the darkness, a brightening

circle your gift and delight. With two you can

see where you’re headed and what you’ve become.

With four, the corners of the room are made

visible. With thousands of small flames

held in the heart, we can topple governments.

You teach me: with wind and kindling, we can

fashion a forge and remake everything.

It is our breath that purses the wind, our hands

gathering sticks and saplings, laying the wood.

The Hearth Mother is the Mother of Judgments.

She says, I will show you: your hand strikes the match —

Image:  "red green and blue candles” by Elena Kloppenburg on Unsplash.