In the language of the fan

The following is meant to be incomprehensible.

We put ourselves on display and then hide behind glass panes
Shivering and hoping that ourselves will not be seen
And then, when neglected, we sorrow that as well,
"Why did no one come? Is it for dislike?
Or did we simply lack publicity?"

Wherefore, then, do we place ourselves
Within yet so far from the eyes of men?
Longing for the spotlight radiance,
Cowering when a lesser flame
Deigns to glance upon us.

Speak not to me of who I am,
Or what I've done or given.
I have too much, and that too much
Is all to little when seen through eyes
That are not mine.
Your eyes are piercing -
With sweetness that undoes me
You criticize my soul.

I do not want to be seen in the full glare of day -
I might in light be visible.
Nor yet do I long for darkness.
I spurn the shadow that I cast.
And yet that shadow still remains,
That shadow, cast in your tender light,
That shadow, sullen mockery,
That takes your words and twists them.

How can I hear what is meant if I stand behind myself,
If my shadow stands between us
And distorts all I sense?
I wish that I might know you.
I dread that you might know me
Despite the glass and shadows
I have guarding the advance.

Feeble, my protestations -
You break through, but strew no shattered glass.
Your strength is in your silence,
More dreadful than your words.
Speak truth to me and tell me,
What I truly am.

Mood: Pensive. Anxious. Self-depreciating. Plagued by doubt. Utterly without confidence.
Music: Mentally Shadowlands
Tomorrow: The Feast of St. Francis, today the Feast of our Guardian Angels, yesterday St. Therese of Lisieux, the day before St. Jerome. A busy week indeed! Oh, all you saints and angels, pray for me and for the Holy Father! Amen. Please, Lord, make me better than I am.