The Light Of Small Things

Day has its sun

And night has the stars

But God’s best light is born by candle.

Upon the world’s great, gaudy glare

He sets the little taper of your self to stand

And breathes the smouldering wick to flame

So never to go out again.

And when the sun has run its course

And all the stars have ceased to burn

His lighted candles will remain

To make an endless beam of Him.

Day has its sun

And night has the stars

But God’s Own Light is shown by candle –

A stable, feedbox, peasant life,

hands labor-scarred, Truth shod in sandals

and on a crossed wooden altar lifted high.
God lights the world through such small candles. 

(Apologies to M. Madeleva for filching and refining this work of hers. I think she would approve.)