Monday, January 13, 2014

A Dying Flame

The following is a guest post from a different Jordan, based on The Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Andersen.

Jordan Michelle Blaylock is a writer, a storyteller, a poet, a mystic, a Gnostic, and a seeker. 

Quietly, within silence
Soft footsteps fall
In the cold snowy night
as the wind blows with all of her might
A child walks, holding matches close to her breast.

She reaches a dark alley, and stands shivering,
Unable to hold the matches still
She prays and prays
That he doesn't find her
Otherwise he will make her sorely pay
For not coming home.

The cold seeps into her bones
She slowly freezes
Huddled in her ragged cloak
The air harsh and choking
Still lighting matches
Staring into the flame...

She closes her eyes and falls asleep
To awake in another world
Where she will be safe and kept warm
Where there will be no harm..

The Messiah smiles down at her
Holding her close
Whispering that she is now home
Her heart leaps in joy
and she hugs him tightly..

In the morning,
They find her with no warning
Lips blue, ice upon her eyelashes
But a smile upon her face
As she has found peace and safety
At long last.