Of Contrails and Shooting Stars

Science taught me that contrails are made by hunks of metal in the sky. Science taught me that shooting stars are merely pieces of ice hurtling through space because of gravity.

But no.

It is magic that makes those beautiful lines of vapor crisscross the sky and glow in the sunset. It is magic that makes silvery maidens dance across the sky and kiss the black velvet.

Magic that causes the stars to waltz across the sky. Magic that causes the sun to slowly wind its way across our horizon each day. Magic that causes the moon to smile down at us. Magic that brought the beautiful race of man into blissful existance.

Magic.

Beauty is magic. Magic is beauty. Therefore, beauty brings man into existance.

I am beautiful. I am magic. I am capable of bringing man into existance.

Love is magic. Magic is love. Therefore, love brings man into existance.

But I am not love. I know nothing of love. I have never been loved by a boy, nor have I ever loved a boy. Therefore, I am not capable of magic.

But I have performed an act, an act that should be driven by beauty and love, and therefore should be magical.

It was not driven by love. It was driven by outer beauty. It was driven by shallow hopes. It was driven by lust. But not love. It was not magic.

I was abandoned. I was left behind. I was used, thrown to the wind like leaves in the autumn breeze. I was taken for granted.

I considered revenge. Oh, how I planned. But then I realized that I was to blame. I let him use me. I let him take it from me. This was my fault.

I was worthless.

I am not worthless.

I am not worthless.

I

Am

Not

Worthless.

I am not worthless.

I am beautiful.

I am magical.

I am a contrail, crisscrossing the sky with my glow.

I am a shooting star, dancing across the velvet tapestry of the night.

I am the setting sun, casting long shadows across the earth.

I am the stars, winking at the planets.

I am the moon, casting my light into the darkness, driving it out.

I am the race of man, capable of love beyond comprehension.

I am beauty, smiling at the wonders of the world.

I am love, giving people a reason to live.

I am magic, giving rise to everything.

All I want is beauty. All I want is love. All I want is magic.

All I want to be is a shooting star.

ψcamille elisabethψ