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The Literary Groong - 12/07/2002

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	CANDLES

	By Knarik O. Meneshian

	Flickering candles, burning bright,
	bowing with each breath of rite.
	Rising, falling,
	shedding tears so warm and soft
	that all too soon
	grow cold and hard as stone.

	Oh, ancient light of lights,
	bending with each whisper
	of beseeching prayers.
	To what avail are Sacred Rites,
	when like you,
	they melt into oblivion?


--
Knarik Meneshian was born in Austria, from an Armenian father and an
Austrian mother. She's married and is a writer and a teacher. She has
also taught ESL in the village of Jrashen (Spitak region), Armenia in
1991. Various of her works, - (poems, short stories, articles,
reviews, - have been published in American and Armenian publications.
She has authored "Reflections", a book of poems, and translated to
"Musa Dagh - The Banishment of Zeitoun and Suedia's Revolt" by Rev.
D. Antreassian, from Armenian to English.

Copyright  2002 Knarik O. Meneshian

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