Written by Sher Chandley


The Arms of Shadow
in the blanket of deep night
I look upon a sickly moon
glimmering in a misty sky
shedding embers of scanty light.
Sleep is out of reach
in a night time daydream
I run free into the forest
into the twilight under the trees
squat down in a deep reverie
Constant with the silence
exuding proud freedom
offered by my core
I am insensible to all pain
that is happening to me
a feeling of light like levitation
such as occurs in dreams.
My soul sheds its weight
in melody and rhythm
of a purer, sunnier life
I am elevated and impelled
by the permanent, the infinite
into the absolute timeless
in the cold hour before dawn
comes salty disturbances
like burning gusts of wind
cutting a path in my quietude
like a falling, winding stream
raging in a torrent downhill
I am still awake
when day leaps into the sky
the red rim of the sun rises
over shoulders of dark land
colors of waking earth returns
as the shadows of my night melt
my wonder drips
to warm, comfortable beds
having a hot, tasty meal
by the cheeks of a red fire
while the wind howls outside
the rain twirling upon the roof.
There is a whirring in my mind
as my wonder leaks and shifts
to conscience thoughts on
the poor and sickly
the cold and hungry
biting fingers in the bitter blue
No sooner I try to close my eyes
my mind and body reels
forcing me to open them again
toss, turn, sit up and lie down
the lightening dark dazzles me
into a dead heavy like lead
in an instant, a dread lightness
I cannot walk, I float
drift like a gossamer
the ground is a cloud,
the air a current, like a river
carrying me to and fro
transported on the breeze
twixt a castle of rude plenty
and sombre, meagre hut
My eyes are wide open
to the pain of poverty
I know its unnecessary
my eyes are open
I am wide awake
It's raining blood
I am blown away, away
on cloud carried by the wind
into the reaching long arms
of a travesty of shadow.