Shadowed

In darkness there was light so subtle, a see-through substance of coloured ions, neon bright the plasma of experience- not toned down the shift when night pursues pallid day's nuances... While in gardens of full sunlight, bright flighty beings pursue hearts nectar nurturing-no more fight for sustenance-life's true art of Giving is no pursuit of might. Empowered, each plays its tiny part. The Hunt is on. No interlude where white and black may merge as One. Too hazy the fearful phase in mood before death and hate be ovecome. Milked shadow's only fight is to be good... And so, all shadows chase till gone. Posted 16 July 2020. Poem written 1990. Edited.