I Passed Through My Shadow
The wall became a canvas, then a door,
My shadow stretched and exhibited there,
A silhouette of who I was before;
I stepped into the cold and static air.
I wondered if the dark held more than light,
And walked into the shape I used to be;
I felt the thin-layered membrane, tight,
A paper-shroud that parted easily.
Passing through a chalked passage through the shade,
The density of wallboard dissolved like mist,
Until the world of solid edges strayed,
And I emerged where only light exists.
Though brilliant as a sun without a shroud,
My vision stayed as steady as a stone;
The brightness didn't burn or cast a cloud,
It simply showed me things I’d never known.
I saw the relics of a life in play:
A baseball stitched with stories of the field,
A tennis racquet from a summer day,
The vibrant life the shadow had concealed.
Regalia of the military stood tall,
Beside the medals, chorus and the solo;
Stones of varied colors lined the wall,
And past pets watched on, serene and hollow.
I saw the swimming pool, a turquoise gleam,
The special suits of plaid and every hat,
The certain cars that I drove within a dream,
And schools where once a younger version sat.
There were the boats and skis for a quiet lake,
The animals that shared my path and breath;
Reminders of the choices we all make,
Defying time and distancing from death.
I stood among the treasures of the "more,"
Each object like a star within the glare;
No longer just the shadow on the floor,
But owner of the light that waited there.
Then came a multitude of moving shades,
A tide of friends and brothers, side by side;
Classmates and team-players from the grades,
And sisters drifting on that glowing tide.
Others of a lighter shade moved near,
While I was showered with the dreams I’d kept—
The hunts of a lifetime, vivid and clear,
And secrets that the waking world had swept.
A Zippo lighter flickered in the haze,
A shear curtain flowing in a phantom breeze;
I saw a hug, a kiss, the girlfriend's gaze,
The friends who were girls, and memories of ease.
A basketball went spinning through the light,
Amidst the rush of all I’d loved and known;
But then a tiredness dimmed the brilliant sight,
And I felt a longing for the world of bone.
Tired of the visions, the weight of the past,
I turned from the glory and the golden ray;
Longing for the anchor that would last—
To be the me of that very day.
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