slow day at work

a moment to muse -- a free computer ...

papa


WallTree


I am tied to shadows as I am tied to a lantern,
each giving purpose to the others,
and hence to me –
for if I cast no shadows
then what use is my internal light and faith,
and except for troubled faces set into sharp relief
how will I know to whom to offer help?

So I was quick to notice, along the Abbey wall
a shadow that did not quiver-- or move at all.
I found on close examination (with some trepidation)
that it was but a stain upon the aging stones,
left by a gnarled tree now lost to memory.

Yet this is not exactly true, I realized;
for this section of wall was unique in character,
unlike the other places with patches of crumbled scars
of careful loving repairs and newer fitted rock.
The stretch of pristine bulwark left unscathed
is not the gift of fine mason’s hand or will,
but a repayment for the help it gave that simple tree –
a sturdy niche in which to birth and grow – survive.

Then it in turn did save this wall from the ravages of time,
and together they became
each by each
what no other tree and wall bewas –

friends, I’d say –
but I’m only good at shadows.