A shadow casts itself onto
Auspicious panes of wood.
That shadow tells a story
Of such glory.
Glory you can never imagine,
Of course,
Unless you were John Lennon.
That shadow is dark,
That much is obvious,
But if you look closely,
Reeeeeaaaal closely,
You'll see the light in such shadow.
The memory in that shadow.
The life in that shadow.
It is as reverberating as a piano,
But as kind as a soloist soprano.
I wish for one day,
One day,
My shadow will look like that,
Hopeful,
Powerful,
Dedicated.
I'll get there,
Some day.
But not today,
I still have mistakes to make,
Bad ideas to partake,
And a neverending break.
YOU ARE READING
As Time Slows Around Us [Poetry]
PoetryAs complicated as time itself, like the silent conversations with the moon and sun, lie the complexity of the screaming but silent thoughts of the stars. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." ...
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