Fact or Fiction/Truth or Lies

In my heyday
all saw the Light.
 
No one needed to espy me
silently clip-clopping
through the forest.
 
One word: Faith.
 
I was there,
omnipresent at their table,
blessing their food.
 
Turning water into wine?
Maybe.
 
At all hours
they could attend my church,
worship in my stable.
 
Fact or fiction? Truth or lies?
God? Goddess?
Magnificent mythical creature?
Embodiment of purity and grace?
 
Possibly.
But none of that mattered.
 
The faithful few, you?
can still picture me
in this worn out world,
alone, elusive,
reflecting light
in a magical moonlit night.


Reflecting Light