Light, the universal giver of life. Its existence burgeoned by various daedal devices, some natural and some artificial. Ever since man found his bearing, he recognized the power of light.
Light, the mere existence of which can be heroic.
Light, the presence of it removes all that is ominous in the world.
Light, the giver of warmth, both physical and spiritual.
I try to lull myself to sleep and I cautiously gaze at the lights above with a strange fascination. Maybe it was that insanely late hour, or my perennial melancholy, but the light seemed almost poetic to me, it appeared like a radiant flower in the jungle of darkness. I snapped a quick picture.
It got me thinking of all of the lights that I have seen recently. Each one distinct from the other, each one cloaking the beholder with a distinct emotion, each one telling a story…