We either chase the dim outline of something that exists or we pursue that which looks more colorful, captivating and enticing, but leaves us with hands grasping, fingers brushing-- on air.
Shadows or mirages.
I have run after the bright things that shimmer, waver, and glisten like the image of an oasis in the desert, I have chased them down and I have felt my heart drop and shatter as I grasped handfuls of empty air.
And I have chased the dark outline of beauty unseen. I have run my hands across it seams, and hear the rustling of truth and beauty that the wind whispers to trees.
Blind to the reality that lies behind the dark veil, I have pushed through the shadows towards light; for even shadows grow clearer as you draw closer to the blaze. I have trace my fingers along the borders, marveling how the lines become sharper and more defined the closer we get to the light.
I exist for the moments when I stumble into the shadow of Beauty.
Shadows denote something real, solid and I will chase them until my heart no longer beats inside my chest.
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