by Shane Mole

Created on: April 15, 2011

Pure

The damp, frigid air collides with the perspiration on my skin. The ominous silver clouds whisper to me in my own language. The enigmatic tongue of waiting thunder. Riddle me this, they beckon, when is love at it's purest? When it is unrequited, I retort reflexively. But is that the truth? Of course not. Love is only pure when it is equal, surely. But a comfortable equilibrium can constitute a deception. We need to suffer through the confusion to know what we would do for love. If we are fortunate enough to be given the keys to the kingdom straight away, we would not fully appreciate the grandeur and magnificence that truly signify purest love. The foreboding sky weeps gently, lightly, longing to know that feeling as I do.

It is that single patch of light, peeking ever so slightly out of a hole in the world, that is the teacher. The light is unable to choose a direction. It flares out of the iris in a million thunderbolts. You have to concentrate to see more than a single blinding flash. No matter where in the world they strike, one always penetrates my chest. Light is unaware of its impact on we mortals. It seems stand-offish, because of the eternal struggle between its desire not to burn out and its need to be watched and admired. My light is the only one I ever see. I myself struggle with my own desires. I want to keep her to myself, make every arm of lightning wrap itself around me, consume me in its brilliance. But light is intangible and free. To contain it is to kill it. I must be content with that achingly brief and beautiful moment when it does me the honour of falling on me. It is only then that I know for certain.

My light smiles as it sinks below the vertical horizon. It takes a moment for my heart to adjust to the darkness. For what seems an eternity, there is only the void. However, a glimmer is felt from within. Soon, the crystalline shard that is all that remains of the thunderbolt, illuminates the most desolate corners of my soul. Without a quark of effort, my light has taught me when love is at it's purest. It is whenever and wherever her light shines.

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