The Candle on the Windowsill

There is a small candle on the windowsill of my home.
I light it on the darkest days of December, when the sky hangs heavy
and the world feels overwhelmingly fragile.

At first, the flame is shy — a small flicker,
as if unsure of its place in a world so full of noise and uncertainty.

But then it steadies.
It grows.
It holds its ground.

And in its warm, golden glow,
I remember something quiet and important:

Light doesn’t need to be loud
to be powerful.

It just needs to exist.

Sometimes our softness is enough.
Sometimes our presence is enough.
Sometimes surviving the year,
with all its storms,
is its own quiet victory.

So I keep the candle lit.
Not to push away the dark,
but to honour the fact that even the smallest light
can change the way a room feels.

And maybe,
just maybe,
the way a heart feels too.

— The Kelu Project