Shadow Is No More

This poem represents an attempt to create images that express my struggle to intuit a deeper concept of time, death and eternity.

A shadow lashes temple bells to my arms,

laces ceremonial slippers to my feet

like a new-born corpse.

Amber light from a street lamp slides through

shuttered windows, circling like the

vapor trails of a dying sun

skimming along razor edges sharpened

against the whetstone of brain cells                  

14 billion years in the making.

Something shimmering hovers above,

a small seed gently carried within

its comforting heart.

Forms seen only in dim reflections transform

to reveal the longed-for home where

all endings begin again.

The earth-borne cadence of a shaman drum

washes over with music birthed

by Apollo in the big bang.

Clocks stop their chronic keeping.

Yesterday and tomorrow

empty their bowls

into the womb of eternal now

where fear cannot go and

shadow is no more.