Chasing Shadows
An old sundial awaits
Sol's kiss of glistening light.
And aligned with the North Star;
its silence stabs at the night.
Tarnished and weather-beaten,
it knows that Dawn will come back.
And waits in pools of darkness,
drenched in drops of liquid-black.
Sol's light crests the horizon,
finally free from Night's clutch.
And sunlight strikes its dial,
gilding its face with its touch.
Time is tethered to its face,
His presence now shackles Him.
And He slowly creeps along;
chasing shadows at its rim.
Sunlight glides it like magic,
with a luminescent glow.
And it notes the time of day;
as the sun inks its shadow.
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