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Hiding in the shadows, weeping for the sun.
In Plato's cave, one man left, saw the sun and returned to tell others that the shadows among which they lived had a rich and brilliant source ... c'mon out! take a look!
But those among the shadows did not come. They pleaded and begged -- acknowledge my shadows. Tell me my shadows are OK. Join with us in praise of the socially-acceptable shadows that can be so frightening and yet form our world.
God, I love the shadows!
God, I long for the light!
I wonder how the one who ventured forth felt, surrounded as he was with a million shadowy existences and pleas. Cranky? Resigned? Willing? Unwilling? Compassionate, as other mouths may call it? Did he distinguish between shadow and light? How smart would that be?
Oh well, the sunshine warms those in shadow and those in light.
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