A Candle Shines Through

Shroud darkness
wet and weary
the lonely stranger

Hoary breath streaming up
face burning wind
raw and aching
the traveler struggles on

a bright beacon of hope
draws him through the night

There it is!

Bright hope beacon
a candle glimmers
a window glowing warm
calling the traveler
Home

This poem came to me as the result of a cold windy fall day here in the North Georgia Mountains. I’d been thinking about how life’s journey is so full of weird twists and missing my family. My twin brother, Don is very far away from me and we've lost touch with each other. Truthfully, I don’t even know where he is and it aches.

Remembering all of our adventures as children warms my heart and I wish I could recapture those moments just for a little while. Those crazy days on the farm and all the wild games we played, the tramping through woods and fields are as vivid to me as if they happened only yesterday instead of over 40 years ago.

Of course, life and time moved on apace as it will do. School ended and my brother stayed there at home with our mother. He became a minister and worked at the hospital in Atlanta. I left home, married once and had children and a job to fill my days and hours with all those small joys, terrors and dramas life is heir to.

Time moved on and we drifted a little further apart, Don and I. Phone calls and letters happened less often. We didn't visit as much, laying the blame on the vagaries of our day to day lives. Eventually a card at Christmas or birthdays became our only contact and then tragedy struck. Mom died—my brother handled it faithfully.

I was far away, dealing with marriage number two, more kids and a job that was slowly killing me. I didn't even get to be at the funeral—my brother and I stopped even casually communicating much after that.

We shared a few brief letters and Christmas cards, a couple of short phone calls, then nothing. My brother disappeared- it seemed as if the Earth had swallowed up all references to him. I’ve searched for years trying to find him without any success. Nobody in the family knows where he is or how he’s doing now.

So, Don, this poem is just for you. I know that your cerebral palsy is probably worse now; I’m fat, arthritic and perennially unemployed but you should know that I love and miss you brother. Our sister Kathy sends her love, my children and grandchildren would love to meet you.

Wherever you are, you are always in my heart and on my mind because God made you the other, better half of me. Wherever you are, lonely traveler, there’s a candle shining through the window to call the weary traveler home. Keep safe brother and God be with you always.

Always,

Ronnie