Shadow

Shadow

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There’s no hint of a shadow in you. 

You’ve always been light to me. Reaching deep inside and illuminating the winding paths of my mind. 

Safe to hide in, veiling me from needless fights, shifty eyes that never take blame but yoke themselves to Satan’s plight. 

But you are light. And in you there is no darkness.

So when everything is darkness, and your light in my life feels like a flickering flame, a smouldering candle at risk of relinquishing to the extinguishing, 

I can’t confuse the shadows for you. 

The shadows only exist in reference to the flame. I wouldn’t even know darkness had another name if light hadn’t pierced my veins all those years ago. 

The shadows would be all I know. They’d be a home, a blanket of solitude, a fortress of fear, wise council that comes like prison shackles to my ears, 

And I’d never know another name but hell. Fear. 

Except that you drew near, and the night broke into day, and the hopelessness I felt was very quickly washed away 

With a future. A new life. A new birth, a new childhood, a new world to explore. A new father. 

The old has truly past away. The old is melting off me like ice to a flame. And those years in the tomb were just a waiting game. 

Because before I was conceived, you knew my name. 

And is that same God not still a smouldering flame? Still casting off the shadows just by burning the same? 

You are real, they are figments of an imaginary game I no longer wish to play. Threats of false realities that I’m tired of entertaining. 

You know my name. There’s no empty corners for shadows to display in you. Just a furnace of glory that warms me even in the darkest pain.

And it’s harsh, and it’s cold, but the truth is still the same: 

In these shifting shadows, you’re my flickering flame.