act 1

a nod, curtsy, a gesture to signify something missed, and barely touches the heart even though the mirror reflection played out to perfection. a point of view, a paradigm shift or not one when throwing pebbles is no longer what a grown up wants to do when water solidifies to ice, this icy heart making calculations, falling behind at each step real. the shadow mimics the actor, the actor plays for the audience entranced by the steps, the dance, the movements of symbols meaning something bizarre, life is funny in that sense when the parts make up less than the final good. missteps, miscalculations, like a river gone off chart, now the moon bemoans a lost chance: of never capturing that perfect wave. it went by again, and again, and again with spectators zeroing in on shadows flitting like bats across the night sky with little light, a crescent and even then the clouds groan with heavy burden, thunder vibrating the surrounding air then clarity again at something found, the actor has lost his reflection, his shadow, becomes acutely aware of being observed makes no excuse, of whining or regret. it is now or never, exclamation, jubilance at having becoming free, then the iron chains come back once again, as always - - - like the sun that must rise in the morning, the lesser departs to make way for the stronger, a curtsy, a bow, a gesture hypocritical because the heart resides with the vanished moon.