This Little Light of Mine

A star is born. I held him in my arms and vowed he was mine. He glowed with a glow that was more than the glow of those before him. He was mine to raise in wonder towards the sky that owns our souls. 

~

He took a step and the world started to change, or perhaps it had always been this way. But the Clouds grew more menacing, beings full and dark, who cared nothing for the stars. They came forth, threatened to dull his light, threatened to take what was mine to protect, mine to save. 

So I raised him always in the Sun; when the Clouds approached from east, west, north, south, I took him, shielded him with my arms, my love. He knew not lightning that struck the sky, nor thunder that shook the earth. I raised him like the daisy I never was. I created him to be better than the bomb I became. I made him in the image of the celestial that watched over him. 

He waltzed through toddlerhood, wore dresses and necklaces with grace, without fear. I fostered the shine of his passion that grew into reality. That vivacious energy, so contagious I could not hinder it, because he was so full of love for everything beautiful. 

And then he became beauty; he began to dance. His body moved to a silent song from the moment the Sun crested the horizon to the moment the Moon came out to say hello. His legs grew long, delicate, but strong. His hair fell in waves never quite tamed, much like his spirit. He met the Clouds of cruelty headfirst, and he mocked them. 

When they tried to swallow him, I rescued him from the depths of their rage, kindled by the Clouds before them. I taught his glow to live on, to block out the darkness, and to inspire other stars to shine so bright. I kissed him, and I told him to dance. 

He sparkled as he moved, the twinkle in my eye, and threw out his arms to catch dewdrops, thrusted his chin up to blow dandelion seeds. He learned the meaning, the language of the notes in his heart, begging to burst free. His passion spread like trails of fireflies to younger stars, those who wished to become him, this little light of mine. 

He became the celestial I had raised him to become, a symbol of what we could all be.

~

Soon, he leapt into the teen-age, prodding me away. Slowly at first, then all at once. He pushed, I pulled, and with that, he drifted further from my grasp. My days were consumed by worry, this inescapable feeling crawling up my back that which came next was my fault alone.

Who would protect him if I were not by his side? 

The answer was as I feared for so very long. He suffered blows I could not temper. He encountered Clouds that grabbed him in a grasp strong as a vise. He let his waves of emotion take control and rock the boat every which way. He let everyone tell him what mattered, who he was, who he would be. He watched his friendships crack under the pressure, helpless. His faith in humanity dwindled as mine once had, as I had hoped to protect him from. He lost the sun I gave him, forced to tunnel his way through the dark. 

All without me.

~

I despaired. Left with no choice but to listen to the mockingbird's cry, to watch as he took the road I had not known was only meant to be traveled alone, as every child must. 

I cursed my own name, desperate to reach him once again, to keep him, to love him as only I could. I retreated inside my mind, locked in the cage that was my brain, too afraid to grab the key sitting in front of me. I convinced myself of my own monstrosity in letting my daisy wilt alone in the unknown.

Yet still, he danced.

~

Years later, he came to me in the rain. Drops slid down his face in a race with his tears, and he told me what my heart had known since I first held him in my arms: 

I don’t like girl stars. 

I weeped for the fear he would always be forced to face, that I could never completely shield him from.

He had faced the wrath of a world that did not deserve him, did not understand him, and did not want to. I took him in my arms and held him close the way I always had. I listened to the beat of his heart sounding out a song, the song of his life. A life I loved with everything I had.

And I knew my mission to protect him from the corruption of evil inside the souls of others would always have succeeded, because he was mine.

~

He returned to me, this little light of mine, and I showed him one last wonderful thing; a world with warm, open arms. A world of love where the Sun was always in attendance. A world of people dedicated to acceptance. 

He became everything and more that I had dreamed for him. He danced to his own beat always, following the song of his heart, the song I had helped him create.

He lived, he breathed, he loved, and he danced. And I no longer felt such fear in standing behind the curtain, in allowing him to bear his own paths. For he was strong like me. 

It was peace we had found, for both me and him. Peace within ourselves, in tune with the world around us. Fear became a distant memory, and contentment a daily sentiment.

He had become everything and more that I had dreamed for him, and I ask for nothing more. Only to remain in this place, our home.

A place to be my, and yet always his own, little light.