The Umbra

Fear is the umbra that I carry

From my youth.

It snakes its way coldly

Through the years—

As shards of ice shooting

Through my veins,

Stabbing my heart,

Compelling me to falter—then halt.

Hence, the steam from the bleeding-out

Infects me with cold sweat in the night—

When all reason is obscured.

Yet I cling to this shadow

Which cannot leave me

(for a shadow is not a variable),

Seeking its companionship

Rather than enmity--

As a Lost Boy who delights

In the tests of his bravery,

However spectrally

They are presented

(for Hope is the small thing

that thrives in the darkness

of Pandora's box).

Herein lies the key to surviving:

To open one’s eyes as

Innocently as a child

Each morning

As Dawn slips in through

The window to 

Emblazon her light on the face

Of fear—

Hence blinding the serpent

Which would tempt and deceive

With the image of safety 

Hidden underneath

The dark covers of the bed--

Urging one to live in limbo forever.

10 June 2011