A Finite Allegory

I have been the brightest star

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Photo by Aral Tasher on Unsplash

I have been the brightest star, shining through the drudgery of a cloud-soaked sky. “Oh, how marvelous you are” — sustained on morsels of praise sent aloft by stranded travelers on their way to nowhere.

I have been the quiet stream, roaming through the thick weeds of your backyard. “Oh, how calm you are,” — grounded by the off-handed remarks of frantic settlers desperate for the refuge their conformity promised.

I have been the longest night and the relief at dawn — I have been the twinkle in your eye and the reason it’s gone.

I have been the ocean’s roar and the squawk of gulls — the depth of the canyon and the absence you mulled — in your mind, on repeat.

And I have been all these things to someone — just as someone else was to me: a raincoat, a dagger — holiday lights — a sentence — a pronouncement, a comma splice.

Weaving in and out of the traffic of each other’s lives — we are symbolic jesters — fools who remind: life is brief and even briefer now. Be what you may and let yourself be found.

Behind the clouds, hidden in the weeds — the marvelous burst — the calming creek. Noticed by few but by those truly in need.

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