The constant noise of the heavy traffic outside my window does not diminish the silence of a candle burning, flickering off the walls of the candle lit room where I sit and write.
Walls filled with dancing shadows of various sizes and shapes reflected from the contents of the room.
Moving shadows circling the room resembling a crowd of people, watching, waiting, for the next event.
A candle created with caring hands using evenly cut pieces of bamboo standing tall against one another to form a perfect circle.
Then drenched in white wax covering the tops of the bamboo and appearing to have run over the edges ever so neatly.
The flame is getting smaller as the wick slowly saturates with melted candle wax and the sweet aroma of honeysuckle becomes more faint as the flame disappears into the darkness.