Oh look, the sun's out again.
My shadow still precedes me.
I feel the warmth on my person.
Melting this sheet of ice.
Drip.
Drip
Drip.
Dewy water runs into a puddle,
I catch my reflection.
It's dark, its a silhouette.
Shrouded in the shadow of the warmth.
Many a moments have passed.
Many a lifetimes, almost.
Never yet has my expression changed.
How far am I set in stone?
Warmth turns to heat so fast
Where is the fine line?
The line has stolen my shadow
The puddle is but a remnant.
Oh, how lonely it is.
When a lack of reflection leads to my descent.
Sometimes I almost wish clouds were here,
Temporary reprieve from this burning fire.
I've been through this everyday in my existence.
Why then is it not easier this noon?
Can't I ascend a pain this dire?
The ground beneath me blazes with light
There's the familiar mirage again.
I welcome it, for it brings my reflection.
Clear as this day,
It bears me.
For these few moments, I gaze upon myself.
Absolute, naked, almost rancid clarity.
Each mark a symbol of another day past.
Numerous undulations for each season I've existed.
Sometimes this mirage is more limpid than reality.
And slowly but surely, a pattern set in the stars,
The ebb and flow, the only true constant.
The sun finally comes to face me
And my shadow,
Behind me,
Descends.
It's harsh yet mellow, it doesn't hurt anymore.
The light penetrates through my iron soul.
And slowly blinds me.
The white light of heaven spots my eyes,
Too much of something and it merges into nothing.
What a curiously empty feeling.
Nostalgia hits my shadow.
This light stays with me long after the sun sets.
A glare that sharp leaves marks, even on stone.
Every veil must lift.
So too, my sight returns.
But now darkness envelops me.
My shadow is now within.
It is me, I am it.
True truth lies in this nothingness.
Naked reflection caresses me in memory.
As it turns colder, and darker,
I can't help but wonder
Does frost penetrate as deep as heat?
And in this thought, I lose myself.
Swimming in incepted imagery.
Seasons ebb and flow, cycles of heat and frost.
I will remain grounded here till I fall to dust.
.
.
.
Oh look, the sun's out again.
Which part will the glare chip away today?
For stone has more memories than water.
Be as that may, so shall I be,
Forever wondering,
Who will tomorrow bring forth in me?
