Reflected Glow

I awoke to a dream of fireworks. Resplendent colours flashed across the sky and their patterns, reflected by the still waters of the lake cast many spells on my widening eyes. I had been flying again. Yet, all the vast stretches that I traversed, from the greens forgotten by man to cobwebbed shelves left dusty in the dark for all their loneliness, did not appeal much to my tears.

I had been following the lights. They seemed elusive at first, almost shy, but when one bright ball of assembled sparks shot up into the night it was only a visual symphony waiting to unfold. The colours assembled themselves and twirled lyrically to the sky’s delight. And mine. They zoomed towards the horizon, teased the waters to smile radiantly and mesmerized two small, dark orbs which seemed so much duller in contrast.

Since when had the night been dark enough to present the perfect stage? Since when had moonlight been dimmed in defeat to brighter bursts? No sounds emerged from the thicket nearby. Not a whisper from the wind, no rustling of tired leaves. The ground was set for the dazzling hues to set the night on fire.

And I watched to my heart’s content and flew along as I could. But the kaleidoscope always seemed just a heartbeat away. I could follow all I wanted, but I’d never be one with the lights. The closest I came to blending with the colours was when I left a kiss that rippled into the lake mirroring that glorious glow. The lights fled, however, as dawn approached, leaving a yearning soul dissatisfied, looking achingly towards east. That was as far as a mirror would go.