Spotlight

In the dimming theatre’s hush a single beam
cuts the velvet dark, a thin silver seam.
A lone light, a target, a daring claim,
It calls the actors to the stage’s frame.

With reverence, wigs unfurl, the dramatis personae
All bow to the glow that pierces opacity.
The audience breathes, their eyes transfixed by design,
Each word, each sigh, a shadowed line that shines.

Beyond the stage, a metaphor blossoms bright,
The spotlight—truth’s own edge—casts doubt to light.
It frames our selves, our roads, our hidden hearts,
In its bright glare, we find meaning’s arts.

So let it burn in quiet rooms or bustling marts,
The spotlight, ever true, reveals what lives in parts.