The blistering sun overhead casting
Shadows over outreached hands--
The hands of small children
Longing for the next taste of
Glistening, frozen deliciousness or
To be elevated into the sky by
Their mother’s tranquil grasp.
The children slumber away,
But the shadows never sleep.
They merely grow with
Each passing day, diving
Deeper into the pits of our minds--
Lost and forgotten but never ending
Even in death.
We spend an eternity looking
Towards the sky, lost
Without a purpose and left
With unrequited longing,
But those shadows seeping
Below our feet swell up--
For these shadows have walked beside us,
Saw us at our depths--
Submerged so deeply in our
Own minds we drown
In the very heights of our
Greatest achievements.
Why do we fear the shadows?
Is it because of what they are?
The shattered remains
Of our childish dream
To be a bird, flying so
High in the sky above the planes?
Or the aspirations that
Once consumed us as we
Trudged through the mud,
But we sunk so deep that we
Threw off the shackles
That once were our
Guiding light to lighten
The load, to gain
A few more breaths of air--
Was the air worth it
As our cast off dreams,
Aspirations swallowed all
Of the momentary pain?
These shadows felt that pain and lose,
Know the journeys we have walked.
They don’t judge us for they are us.
They long to be free like we do, but
They are merely another part of us--
Drifting upwards, towards the sky.