The Path of the Lamp

The Path of the Lamp

 (from *The Light That Returned*)  

When night was thick and roads unclear,

I lit a lamp with trembling fear.
Its glow was faint, but steady still,
A whisper born of silent will.

Each step I took, the darkness stirred,
But light within me gently purred.
It didn’t chase the night away,
It showed me how to walk, not stray.

The lamp I held was not just fire,
It was the spark of deep desire.
To walk the way, to seek, to learn,
To hold the light and not just yearn.

And slowly, paths began to show,
Not paved in gold, but lined in glow.
Each trial bowed before the flame,
Each fear retreated, lost its name.

I learned: the light is not ahead,
It’s not a sun the sages wed.
It lives within, a quiet guide—
A friend who walks close by your side.