My family and I were reading the Bible the other day, and a
particular verse stood out to me: “Man is like a mere breath; His days are like
a passing shadow.” (Psalms 144:4) What a beautiful simile. While the following
poem isn’t religious, per se, I did picture the Camino as I wrote it.
Passing
Shadows
Our days are but a passing shadow,
and yet I find myself
living this moment like never
before—
I like to taste each sunrise
as though I’d never seen light,
I climb this new path
as though my heart has never pounded
to the rhythm of my footsteps.
When my shadow shrinks,
and I come to alight on a bunk
like a bird in its nest,
stretching my legs,
ready to hunt down my next meal,
as though I’ve never tasted
the savory drops of soup before—
and maybe I haven’t
had this variety, but I’d like it
again.
The final hours stretch out
the darkness yet again,
the light I stopped from reaching
the ground
simply by standing here
amid the humid air,
chasing butterflies with my camera
as though I’ll never see one again,
listening as the stars come out one
by one
as though they all still shine.
***
Let’s chat! What did you think of the poem? What are some
activities you enjoy? What’s your take on mortality?
Similar poems: At My Own Pace, Shadows, and Bury Me
Love it!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mia!
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