Shadow puppet
The shadows are there
Even when the sun shines
Even when there’s a smile on my face
The shadows are there
Even when everything seems fine
Even when I can see nothing but light
The shadows speak in dusty voices
Soft as the ghosts of feathers
With spines of steel and bones of ice
Cutting to the heart of my dreams
They speak with poison and sugar
With a kindness that kills
The shadows are there
Taking the joy from me
Spoiling the daylight
Thunder clouds on a summer
Threatening me with war
I push them back with patient hands
To the deepest corner of my mind
And let them whisper their dreadful lies
I’ll deal with them another time.
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Great poem Viv, very intense… I love it! 🙂
Thank you Lua; I had a bit of a struggle with the shadows even while going round Paris…but more of that another time!
The shadows invade my mind more often than I like to admit.
But perhaps it is thanks to the shadow that I’m able to appreciate the light when it’s there.
Thanks for sharing the poem.
XXX
I found it quite hard to deal with while away; partly because I was so active and so tired.
I think you may be right about appreciating the light because of knowing the shadows are there.
xx
I can never fully give myself over to the good things.
The shadows are always there.
I love the poem especially:
Soft as the ghosts of feathers
With spines of steel and bones of ice
Have you ever seen two shadows at noon?
I dont think I have seen two shadows at noon….