On eight nights 
we kindle the holy lights  
with increasing joy.

On the last night
we linger 
with sadness watching 
as the final ember 
fades, going dark

But there is a final blessing.

We are candles that can 
dispel the darkness
our souls the wicks 
that burn with holy Light

We are like oil in the dark ruins,   
we can be sanctified, 
kindled with compassion and hope 
we can be the light that never fades.


©2022marthahurwitz