There you are! Come closer, take a load off (sit and relax), join me as our musings interrupt us, and take us to other places with our thoughts and words. Thank you for listening. Today, streetlights and shadows captivate (hold, attract) my attention as I overlook (see from above) a lake and the evening overtakes the last rays of sun.
Dusk (the darkest part of night) arrives with rain pouring and battering the windows, howling winds push the sun into the ground. I could clearly see the path I longed (really desired or wanted) to take when I arrived. Certainly, it was drawn in my brain. How complicated could it be to remember a path?  I had been there once before. How difficult would it be to walk down that path as night erased it?
Would I dare venture into the darkness, relying solely on my memory? Would there be obstacles to trip me? Would the rain create a slippery (smooth and wet) path? If I slipped, would I slide straight into the cold, dark lake? What sort of creatures come alive when the sun goes down? So many questions. Only one way to answer them. Or was there?
With the flip of a switch, a bulb amongst the trees lit up. Our own private moon, I thought to myself, since no one else could share my mind at that time. Shadows were born and questions were answered. Relief (feeling of calm) spilled over me, rolling down my nose and chest, down my back and calves, out my fingertips, like light. What is that in my pocket, a pocket full of cookies or apocryphal (not real) cookies? The light helps discern reality from the props (accessories) left about.
That bulb was the voice and the blessing I didn’t know I needed, but so gracefully accepted. I was among chiaroscuros, not (just) light, not (just) dark. Shadows are tricky, seeming one thing, maybe a scary, frightening thing. To confront the matter (material) they are really made of, takes the mystery away and creates friends where foes (enemies) were thought to be found. Inhale bravery and exhale freer. Stomp, stomp, wherever I was going, I would be sure to go on purpose. Stomp, stomp. If they find me, they will tell from my footprints that I did not tread lightly nor pusillanimously (not bravely).
Each step I took, I focused on light, crisp air, raindrops, and the sound of my breath. Sheer (pure) happiness inside was met with the joy hiding in the dark, just waiting for a playmate.
Some of the finest people and moments are found where our sight seems to have failed and our senses must kick in. What do you call a light, seemingly misplaced, which fortuitously (luckily) is switched on when you need it the most? A metaphor which can have many interpretations, names, faces, places or things, you know, nouns,  which become examples of serendipity and synchronicity.
My dear listener, tell me about your moment of illumination. Where were you? Do you think you would have made the same decisions? Would you have arrived at the same place? Did the light make your travels any easier? Were the trials and tribulations lessened? I’m listening.

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