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It is the color of my world.
The shade that consumes me.
The shadow of uncertainty.
The tint of doubt that throws off the hue of my life.
It's not light, but neither is it dark. It is the prolonged instance in
which all that surrounds you freezes, animate objects stand still, letters
don't form words, mouths open but no sounds escape from them.
A figure stands. It's shape indistinct. The left side of its body immersed
in radiant light. The right side cast in dim obscurity. Its feet are
firmly planted on the ground- almost touching, with only an indent of
illumination separating them. A majestic candle provides the light and the
shadow that divides the two sides. The left side of the figure stands
erect; it's body like a pillar, the epitome of strength. The right side
limps bleakly; it's body like an aged tree, the epitome of a defeated
warrior.
Strange how one simple candle is all that distinguishes the divide. All
that defines the line between the light and shadow, the animate and the
still, the song and the silent.
Strange? A little. But plausible? Definitely.
You see, what the light doesn't tell you, are the unspoken words written
on the crest of the lips of the figure. The words that keep its feet
planted firmly. The reason why the figure stood in its place, and the
reason why it stands in its place. The words that sustain.
Hope.
Love.
When the candle isn't looking, the figure dreams. It dreams of the
glorious day the candle falls. The day it's light spills over the
darkness, and illuminates the world.
"But what if it burns?" An onlooker asks.
The figure's lips silently speak only the same two words. But the message is clear. You have to be vulnerable to the chill of darkness, in order to feel the warmth of light. You have to lose the fear of getting burned, or burning, in order to fall. g
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Visit Alexis' website.
"Gray"
published with permission
Copyright© ALEXIS TIOSECO
a
Copyright©2001 Marvinsville.com
except for contents with specified copyright arrangements
All rights reserved.
