You see we who sit in the shadows, we do good too you know. We try, yes we try to be decent folks, to make you feel comfortable when you see us, to make you forget that when the moon shines on you and brightens your path, the shadows shade us.
There are some of us in the light. We need the photosynthesis to breathe but inside darkness breeds. We are not sinners, we are not saints, we are just broken, just that. It is simple really, you see.
So when you shine bright in the limelight, do not forget us and do you shine? Oh! Do you shine? Sometimes we shine too, little sparks in the night, flickers of light that make you think we are like you. But we are not and you know this. In the midst of all your beautiful, you know that there, at the periphery of your space, sits the ugly, hungry for some of that light. You know this.
But let us leave that issue for another day. Let us not distract ourselves with philosophical ramblings and dark subjects. Let us focus instead on this, this beautiful thing that we have made. Let us bask in its warmth, in its own light which it freely gives without prejudice, without judgment. This is the work of our hands and I am well pleased. Are you not?
It is this little bundle that makes it worthwhile. This little giggle that feeds the spark of light you see sometimes in me. It is this dimpled smile that puts hope in my eyes, feeds my soul with visions of tomorrow, holds my head high and steady. It is this thing that we have made that keeps me whole.
Today as I sit and stare into the distance, I dream of a future. Now I am not in that future but he is, this little bundle. He sits and remembers me, fondly for he smiles. He tells his children stories of me and you and plants seeds in their heart that they take along with them on their journey. I am not in that vision but I am part of it and that is a enough for me.
This bundle of joy will not forget me. The world will pass away. My words will fade like the passing of the moon behind dusky clouds. My life will become dust beneath a monolith, a tomb, a rotting wreath but he will not forget me.
So do not sit there and speak of leaving or of removing that which we have made. Yes, I have nothing to bring but my name but I have dreams and hopes and a vision of distant light. One day I too will shine and this baby that trembles within your womb will be the switch to light my world again. Do not go. Stay let us see if what I see is true or let us burn knowing we tried to breathe in the light.
