An Ode to Light


The more we're hurt by beauty, the more we
love the world; and the more we love it, the
more we're saddened when earth becomes sky and
the sun cuts it out into shadows and 
edges and wedges of light. Electric,
we exist in two forms; bitten in half.
Angels and trees fall onto mountains and
the face of your friend smiles, a mirror of
light's perfection. It dazzles you with the
sorrow that it all must come to an end.


"Beauty is precious, you see, and the more beautiful something is, the more precious it is; and the more precious something is, the more it hurts us that it will fade away; and the more we are hurt by beauty, the more we love the world; and the more we love it, the more we are saddened that it is like finely powdered salt that runs away through the fingers, or is puffed away by the wind, or is washed away by the rain." 

Birds Without Wings, Louis de Bernières


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