The service begins when the candles are lit.
First one. Then a second. Then a third.
Until all of them are blazing, and we sit,
ourselves transfixed by light and strangely altered.
The service begins when the candles are lit.
What is it about this fire that stirs our souls?
We too flicker and grow soft like wax.
We enter then a radiance that enrolls
us, banishing the dark and its effects.
The service begins when the candles are lit.