 This poem is a prayer candle, lit twenty years ago one night, when life seemed so lonely a forsaken place, and the world an altar I knelt at with the bums and addicts and gutters, dying in the freezing night, children weeping with stark cries of hopelessness, when faith in the heart of man seemed to abandon each soul, leaving it open like an ugly wound a shattered door the occupant destroyed and pillaged, leaving only pained howlings of people, blind to their brothers and sisters suffering. And it was twenty years ago this night that wings of a divine presence lifted me from my own despair, brushed ashes of grief from my shoulders, gave me the gift to see beyond my own pain, blessed me with empathy, and my soul, like an old stick to find water and ground, twisted brittle leafless soul shivered me toward the mystery of my own breathing, leading me back across the wasteland of my life to marvel at my own experience and those around me whose own humble lives graced me with assurance, that if I stayed on the path of seeking the good in people, of trying to be an honourable man, I too would one day have the love of friends, and be a part of life as it spun like a star in the dark, radiating light on its journey. And there is one thing I know with certainty that there is a great, great power within us when used unselfishly causes miracles. Now assist me in my journey and this gift given me twenty years ago I now give back as a poem to you who let me write of your lives. I now give back to you as a poem as a candle kept lit through all the tears and sadnesses sometimes unattended and barely giving any light but always letting go as I let go of its light in giving and compassion for others, sharing it with others in the night to those who dream for peace, for those who cherish the light, I now pass it on.