I'll tell you all a secret That I feel in my bones: I think my Shadow's moving, And acting on its own. I see it shifting sometimes Just outside my view, But when I turn to see it, It's still, and never moves. It follows me around, Not like a shadow should; As if it's keeping step with me - I'd catch it if I could. Sometimes, I swear it's smiling— Though shadows cannot smile. Sometimes, it'll stop somewhere, And linger for a while. I've tried to make it mimic me, But it refused to play. I raise my arms, it folds its own; I turn, it looks away. I stomp my feet; it skips along. I wave; it bows its head. I stand completely still - It takes another step instead. I asked it once, quite quietly, "Just what are you about?" It seemed to shrug its shoulders, Then it simply faded out. But when I started walking, There it was again, A little farther off than me, Around the corner then. I've tried to catch it many times, But shadows are too quick. They slip beneath the furniture And hide behind a brick. And lately I've begun to think It does this just for fun. It waits until I'm looking close, Then darts away and runs. I'm not afraid, exactly. It's simply rather odd To see a shaded form Wear its own facade. I wonder if it knows me, Or if it thinks I'm strange. I wonder if it wonders why I never seem to change. Yesterday, at sunset, The whole world turned to gold - My Shadow stepped in front of me, Did something rather bold. It turned around and faced me - At least, that's how it seemed. Then threw its arms out wide and bowed, Like something I had dreamed. I laughed, and it laughed with me, Though shadows cannot laugh. And when I started walking home, It followed down my path. Perhaps I've got a Shadow That's more alive than most; Maybe it's more vivacious Than I am as the host. If it's found vigor of its own, I suppose that's quite alright. Perhaps I'll follow it tomorrow, See where it goes at night. So now, I let it wander, And give it room to roam. For if my Shadow's found a life,

Call of the Cosmos I heard it young, a hum, a hush, A silver thread, a rising rush. It wound through wind, it sang through stone, A trembling, beckoning undertone. I reached too wide, I reached too deep, A flame that stirred but could not keep. The closer called, the further burned, And in the silence, I returned. Waters whispered, shadows spun, A mirrored sky, the distant sun. I drifted there through moonless tides, With nova stars behind my eyes. I learned the language of the void, The ache of empty space, employed. How hollow halls can still resound With lost refrains beneath the ground. I learned to listen, learn to hear, The hidden pulse both far and near. The hush between the heart's own beat, The sacred rhythm underneath. I learned to trust the voice that flows Through unseen paths where no one goes; To answer quiet, answer loud Each stellar song, each pulse avowed. I know now what was obscured - The mystery, pure and matured - The call once faint became my guide, And stars once distant burn inside.