Transition, "shining or reflecting?"

I tried to stand tall,
stretching as high as I could,
gathering all that I had
into one bright light,
holding it aloft
for all to see.
Perhaps,
if I tried with all my might,
I could be a beacon,
a lighthouse or
a spotlight,
but,
no matter how hard I tried,
all that I had
was the brightness of my shining,
a fading, failing brightness.

It wasn't until I had
stepped down from the pedestal
of my own making
that I realised
I was bathed in your shining.
My brightness was now
a simple refection,
the pedestal,
gone.