So I am supposed to write for five minutes. No editing. No
rewrites. Here we go!
The fuse is lit and the little fireball starts to climb;
up…up…up…into the sky after I hear the satisfying ‘thump,’ and it echoes in my
chest. As the little light arcs higher, I crane my neck to see the explosion. I
see the hanging, twinkling lights of white; in finger shapes, draping down to the earth.
Honestly, I think any ‘little light’ in the darkness is
beautiful. Not too big though, not too overwhelming. Like the fireflies that
dance and rise over my grass on a summer night. The North Star, hanging so
close to the sea, leading a ship home. The moon as it rises on a cloudless
night to shine on my husband and me as we walk hand-in-hand.
There is another light in the darkness that I love. The
light that comes from the people who lead me out of dark places. Confused, in a fog… I may be unable to
see, but these loved ones shine a small light, and I find my way.
A small light can be seen for miles in the dark. I find it
and it gives me hope.