The Keeper

for Stephanie Gail, Sister-Mother

Though howling wind rushes
round these old stone walls
and through her thumping heart,
The Keeper of the Candles sees
which ones have been blown out
and which still burn.
In her mountain
hermitage she mothers
the memories of orphans of fate,
while she melts tallow
from the black-wicked stubs.
The wax has scarred her arms and hands,
but she is faithful
to her tender watch and
lights flames with sacred simplicity
before the gray altars of times past
and green kingdom-come.
She re-peoples the world
with yesterday's children
and remembered stories,
filling these crypt-like spaces
in our lives
with light and song.