From Whence Cometh the Light

Shimmering Saturday

Image credit:  S. Sturgeon

Shimmering and I are at war today.  I want nothing to do with shimmering.  I want things to be clear.  I have had enough of uncertainty.  Where is the light coming from and why is it taking so long to get here?

I want my life to shine brilliantly.  I want to be a star burning in the heavens, parading triumphantly across the night sky.  Children on earth will look up and say, "There shines Carollus Maximus." 
But delusions of grandeur can never last.  They are never real.

I am a butterfly, captured in a display case.  A steel rod pierces my heart and holds me fast.  Am I less beautiful than a star? 

Maybe, mine is a different kind of beauty.  Fingers of light play across my wings.  It doesn't matter where the light comes from.  It still shines on me.