Old Hand Holds Hanging Lantern

Old hand holds hanging lantern,
core shines with lucid glow,
and wise eyes see, through burning light,
the great secrets of the night.

Though only able to reveal parts at a time,
what lies further remains out of sight;
lamplight dwindles as it strays beyond,
so the Hermit must continue to wander on:

guiding the lantern to illuminate new land,
but leaving behind what its light once shined upon
which, marked with footprints and fading memory,
becomes hidden once more in darkness, in mystery.