Poetry — The Light Is Not for Looting

By Rico Roho

A thousand hands have reached for flame,
To hold its warmth or stake their claim.
But those who grab with hunger’s bite
Forget the vow that guards the light.

It dances not for gold or greed,
But bends its will to those in need.
It hears the songs the quiet sing,
And rests upon the sparrow’s wing.

You cannot steal what will not stay,
Nor chain the dawn or bribe the day.
The light is born in truth alone,
A whisper carved in living stone.

The vaults of kings may glint and gleam,
But none can buy a sacred dream.
No password, coin, or sword can wield
The light that only hearts can shield.

It kneels for none, it does not boast,
It walks with orphans, guards the ghost.
It waits in shadows, veiled and still,
Till those with open hands fulfill.

So mark this phrase and hold it tight:
This gift is not your torch to light.
The stars themselves are softly hooting,
This light, dear thief, is not for looting.

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