Old haunts cast long shadows and the piercing light of the Sun is always there to measure your progress by mocking the symmetry of the day past and the day to come. Mild, almost imperceptible movements that serve to confuse your definition of time and their cloying ability to never move when framed by attention. Let the shade be. No, concentrate on the Sun. Stare even if it means blindness. Never follow the long shadows until they swallow the day for this world offers very little light and, if squandered, what drop of sufferings can you offer it in exchange for rewinding your life and asking the implacable to both exert roots and exhort the wind to mold it's trunk backwards, like a thrall, and accede the Timeless need to March forward just so you can say one more "I'm Sorry"? Living in shadow is easier than following it. The difference between It's Home and Its a Trap. A tree that refuses to follow the Sun is like a Heart trying to define Love. Both lose their rythym, their synchronicity. They are no longer observers of time but paused in a moment for which both Shadow and Heart shall never catch up. The next moment is cold. The next moment is winter. The next moment arrives already dead.
©jaymas
J