the art of meditation and witchcraft

It was a dark and lonely night. When the sun departs so early, it leaves much time for shadow. One grows tired of the stabbing glow of artificial light. I took the three candles in the house, one light blue, one dark blue, and one maroon. The maroon candle's wick was buried inside as if sitting at the bottom of a rimmed barrel. The dark blue one I placed on the kitchen table across the room, the light blue on the coffee table in front of the couch, and the third on the arm of the couch to my right.

I wanted to meditate after a long day filled with nothing in particular as far as physical motion. Too many thoughts negative and positive had been shoving one another for the foremost spot, and I wanted to disappear into an environment where I need only be, not worry, nor regret, nor wonder. I turned off all the lights and watched the flame on the light blue candle in front of me. Its flame seemed almost out of control, flickering and growing at its will. This candle leans slightly to the left, and I feared that in its frenzy it might tip over onto the unread magazine and become dangerous instead of calming like it was supposed to do.

I focused on the flame, and the more I concentrated on the burning fire the higher it seemed to reach. It changed colors, the middle burning a bright yellow and its sides flaming outwards orange. First, it became incredibly tall and thin. Then it seemed to sprout orange wings and flap as if to take off from the table. I shifted my gaze to the candle across the room on the kitchen table, and it too danced before me. It grew in size, reaching out like a many-pointed golden star. It too grew wings and warned of the urge to lift itself from the table. To where it desired to go I know not.

I looked to the flame on my right. It was but a tiny orange glow poking its head ever so slightly upward as if afraid to show its face. A mere few seconds passed before I gave up on its power and turned my attention back to the large flickering in front of me.

I contemplated revenge because it had won the battle, become the frontrunner in my mind that day. What is it? What are its uses? How can you bring it about?

It is one belief that if someone has wronged you, a supreme being will bring the proper punishment upon that person. It is a belief I do not share. A woman (or a man) must be the waver of the wand of her own vengeance.

How can I see to it that certain debts are paid by those who owe them? How can I be assured that one who puts out his hand with the intent to violate then loses that hand?

How can I be sure that one who purposefully draws a knife across another's heart in order to scar it feels the same in return?

And my own misdeeds and wickedness? Have I repaid them in full?

Oh, flames, what can you tell me of this?

Shall I leave it to karma, to fate, to life, to death? Do we all truly pay for our transgressions? Do the actions that go around actually come back around?