Waxing

Waxing

Ryan Apple

When we come to the other side
of solstice, singing together,
candles in hand,

we do not give much worry
to wax melting on fingers,
the choice of soy or paraffin,

or even to the paradox
of light’s dual-natured being:
fully particle and fully wave.

But witness shadows
slingshot back and stay
past the perimeters of glow,

how each one keeps confounded watch,
quivering on the twilight edge
like some stray cat or wounded beast.

How light came into darkness,
and darkness did not comprehend,
and did not overcome.

---

Ryan Apple
Poet & Music Professor

Ryan is a Music Professor at Great Lakes Christian College in Lansing, Michigan. His poetry has appeared in the anthology Adam, Eve, & the Riders of the Apocalypse, and in his chapbook Stars And Sparrows Alike (Finishing Line Press).

Photography by Enrique Macias