At year end, the mystery returns
That sense of timeless beauty
Memories of things we’ve longed to know
Inexplicable things, hovering about
Like smoke from a burned out candle
It comes in the earliest morning hours
At times, starting in a dream
Lingering in our eyes
And other untouchable places
Not destinations, but places tugging at our hearts
The candle’s flame lasts only so long
Soon it turns itself over to the darkness
Leaving us to wonder about the mysteries
Born into us from the beginning
Dying at each year’s end