It was not instant death. It dwindled, like the waning of candlelight that was once burning with fervour. Then the air grew thinner and the light began to die slowly.
Except you didn’t take note of the implication. You focused on the tiny patch that was still visible too much to notice that the rest of the room had grown dark.
Then the light went out. And total darkness was all you had left. You had to feel your way around like a blind man walking in a world full of light but can’t see it–because that is what you are.
It is not the world that has gone dark, but you who can no longer see the light shining bright. Because you have lost your connection with the one who has fed your light with oil all the while. Because you strayed too far from the source and moved too close to the fountain.
But the fountain is not the problem. The fountain is the source of another form of life. The fountain is just not the answer to your darkness. It is not the fuel you need now.
If you were willing to change your focus, that would have been okay. Because, then, the fountain might have served you without plunging you into oblivion.
But now you roam. You roam blind. You roam with the crowd yet feel utterly alone because you roam with a lost crowd.
And now you seek rebirth. You seek to be re-enlightened, to find your way back to the Muse. Because her guiding light is the only light that could flourish your soul at this trying time.
You are willing to turn your back to the fountain, having bathed in his refreshing spring for a moment. You have now learnt something important. Which is that to fully appreciate the spring, your light must not go off. Instead, you must place it by the fountain-side for you to see his beauty in the bright light of your lamp.
See, and bathe in it, then find your way back to your source.
A rebirth. Or more likely, a reawakening. Because you are ready to come back home.
