Chasing Shadows: A Romantic Short Story

Photo by: Kaebobee

"Moonlight Nymph"

I run through the meadow into the moon's gleam that trickles through the trees and splashes across the grass. And in the brightness all I see is you.  

Your hair is illumined, your eyes green, your face round and delicate. You wear grey silk, like nightwear, and extend your hand to me, beckoning me to come. 

I looked back but for a moment, and you were gone. 

I cannot say why I turned. Perhaps I think it too wondrous to be real, to fanciful to be happening. And now that you're gone, I dread to think it all a dream.


But then I approach where you stood, a strand of your radiant hair wafting in the gentle breeze, and as I involuntarily place my open palm beneath it, it rests upon it. I squeeze my hand- and my heart- around it.


And that contact with you, was all it took to know you were real, to know I was not chasing shadows.

So I searched. I journeyed through the forest, days without food. I slept in the cold, damp night, and sweltered in the day heat. My skin itched and turned to rashes, but I dared not turn back again, I dare not stop chasing after you. 

It wasn't the hand extended, or your warm smile, no- it is your eyes. Your piercing green eyes that say come, come, but do so like you want me, like you need me. 

I lose track of the day, and am closing in on despair. I take satisfaction in knowing you wanted me to come, to approach, to take you then and there. 

I delight in knowing my suffering, my hunger is for you. My sun-burnt flesh and weary head cannot thwart this rising pang of love and passion in my soul. I think of your lips, how they glistened like ocean water kissed by the sun rays, a thousand different refractions each promising it's own reward. 

And if I had to search one thousand days to find my treasure, I would. 

What are you? I do not know. A nymph, a goddess? I do not care. You had summoned me, and I dare not refuse your beckon, I dare not stop to ask why, or look back as before. And why would I? Such enchanting beauty no man has ever seen. I cannot resist your allure.

Then a glimpse, or was it? I could not be sure. I had all but forgotten, to my shame, your figure, once a vivid painting in my mind's eye but now reduced to a silhouette with silver lining. 


My passion had cooled. But that brief image re-lit the flame of my desire. 

Now I tear through the wooden hillside like a hurricane, ripping branches, being cut by thistles, stumbling on root and uneven ground. It is the least, why yes, the least I can do for you, my love. For I had turned my eyes while even in your presence! 


Yet for you to show yourself to me but for an instant was more than I deserved. And now that I have had a fleeting trace, I am tormented for more. 

So I run, and run, and run. Like a crazed lover, for that is what I am! 

Then another glimpse, and I change direction, and call out to you. But what is your name? "My love, my wonder, my joy, my beaut!" I cry, but you do not answer. You did not answer. 

I collapsed in a clearing, chest aching and head pounding, face down in the earth. I cried, from there I cried out to you! But where are you? You do not make a sound. You slink through the night like a whisper carried away by the wind. My feeble body had no nourishment, except for the uncatchable image of you. 

I believe it will sustain me a thousand years, so I stand. But no sooner do I falter and fall back to a knee. 

Then I looked up, and there you were. Why this, this is the spot, the same meadow as before! How long had it been? It was the place I knew, the special place where I first saw you. Your radiance had not diminished, your smile had not wavered, your teeth were still beautiful. 


Then I am enraptured again by your sparkling lips, intensifying the magnitude of my longing to press mine against yours, to lay in your arms, to be with just you on this fine patch of soft grass, beneath the stars, beneath the moon, by the pure flowing waters.... 

I am approaching, I am approaching you steadfastly. I will not look away, I shall not blink. I can smell your delicious fragrance- oh how inviting it is- as I draw near. I am captivated in this moment, and my heart beats violently as your angular features stand sharp, brilliantly like you are glowing, the only thing in color on this colorless grey night. 

I am noticing your eyes, they are green as emerald. As I approach I am realizing this time I cannot look away, I cannot breathe. I hasten my steps so that I do not lose breath before I reach you! I race to you; your silk hangs loose off your precious body. I long to touch you, to gently clasp your face in my hands! Now you are spreading both arms away from you, facing me; I'm running into your arms! 

And it is too late. 

You were wise, clever indeed to return to that same spot, that same time of the year when the lighting would befall the mound just as it did before. For I could not see, until this very moment before I dive headlong into you as you step outside that enchanted gleam, that your silk is of webs, your hair locks are of poisonous asps, your eyes are cruel embers, and your teeth are sharp fangs.

You are not what I expected. You are not pretty, my cruel love.  

I fall into your web. The hand that you did not extend I now see contains a dagger with wormwood on its point, and it's tearing through my chest. It's plunging through my heart. 


The searing pain gives way to drowsy, 


and I am going under, 

                                      under,

                                                   under,

                                                                under,

                                                                             under....

                                                                                         

                                                                                        Then I awake. And I am in hell. You are here. And all I want to do is run from you, but I cannot. I cannot.  

God, I Pray

This is the latest poem by Jesse Stiemann, and in my opinion, his finest work yet. 

Just God, I come before Thee,

In quietness, on bended knee,

I beg Thee, in Christ Thy Son,

As in heav’n, Thy will here be done.

Tear from me this sinful flesh,

Restore to me a heart afresh,

Give me mind to love Thy law;

The ice upon my cold heart thaw.

Daily do I praise Thy name,

Nightly do I enact the same,

Daily still do I offend,

Nightly still Thy law I rend.

Were it only law I break,

T’would  not render my soul to shake,

‘Tis Thy wrath that trembles me,

For I offend a God holy.

Give my heart to do Thy will,

Preserve me in Thy Spirit still,

Give the new man now to win,

O’er the old man, who seeks to sin.

Father, make me to walk well,

Keep my feet off the path to hell,

Be the lamp unto my feet,

Light up my path, ‘til we shalt meet.

For I am fool, this I know,

I walk as blind, my own way go,

For Thy way is best, ‘tis wise,

Grant me to see this with my eyes.

I know Thy way, it is best,

But behave not at Thy behest,

Grant me to follow Thee now,

Make mine will unto Thy plan bow.

I am blindness, give me sight,

I am darkness, give me Thy light,

I am hatred, grant me love;

Grant me unto Thy courts above!

How long, Lord, shall I remain?

How long in this world wrought insane?

Nay, I must not think this way!

For my brothers, ‘tis better I stay.

God, I pray, make me Thy Son,

Make plain in me Thy vic’try won,

Make Christ in me to increase,

God, I pray, the sin in me cease.

Down to Reign: A Poem by Jesse Stiemann

Jesse Stiemann




Authorial Note: I sought to write a poem, and so, a few weeks back, I ventured forth into the night, and was surrounded by fog. I thought of God's grace, and of His hand leading me out of my wicked ways into salvation, and thus began crafting a poem. As I walked, I pondered the imagery of a Psalm, sinking down, and thought up the poem from that perspective. This is the fruit of God's grace through my gift.








As I sink into the mire,
Dark surrounds, my straights are dire,
Sinking further in decay,
There is here no other way.






I was walking blind before,
Now I know that all the more,
No path before, no path behind,
No path to heal my broken mind.






As I sink, I start to mope,
What then could inspire my hope?
I lay here while foes surround,
Now I only lose more ground.






Now what is this, this strange light?
It comes bold, and gives me sight,
Driving all my foes away,
It comes to me; Light of Day.






Inside darkness, full of pain,
There I lay, worth no one’s gain,
A wretched sight, still he nears,
From above, breaking my fears.






Down he comes into the mire,
Here he comes; my hope inspire,
Rescues me amid my foes,
Light of Light, from darkness goes.






Too bright to see where he brings,
In my ears, a great song rings;
“Holy, holy, holy,” cry,
I am with the Holy Tri.






The Spirit takes my cold heart,

Stone shatters, breaking apart,    

Giv’n a heart to do God’s will;
A heart of flesh, beating still.






Jesus stands in front of me,
Father looks, the God-man see,
He says, “I send you back now,
To that earth where I saved thou.






Do not fret, oh my good son,
The battle, yes, has been won;
Man has crushed the serpent’s head,
And evil shall soon be dead.






I send you back now, to that place,
Be my son, and bear My face,
Be not alone, for I shall give,
The Spirit to you; go, live.”






Now I go down to the mire,
Light of light; a burning fire,
Bring life to lost, in their pain,
Until He comes down to reign.