Shadows

In the heart of a breathtaking landscape, I sought refuge beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient oak. As I settled into nature’s serene embrace, a gentle breeze caressed my skin, carrying with it an unexpected melody. The haunting sound of a flute drifted through the air, its source a mystery.

Intrigued, I scanned the surroundings, but no soul was visible. The allure of the music was irresistible, compelling me to abandon my repose and seek out its origin. With every step, the melody grew clearer, guiding me through the terrain.

Cresting a small hill, I beheld an old shepherd surrounded by grazing sheep. His gnarled, weathered hands cradled a wooden flute, from which emanated the most captivating music I had ever heard. Drawn by the pure melody, I approached, as if drawn by an unseen force.

Finding a smooth rock nearby, I sat, mesmerized by the shepherd’s communion with the instrument. Then I noticed something extraordinary: while the shadow of his flute stretched across the sun-drenched grass, the shepherd himself lacked one entirely! He stood in the sunlight, yet cast no shadow at all.

My heart raced. I stood, my voice barely above a whisper. I asked: “Excuse me, sir… where’s your shadow?”

The shepherd’s gaze met mine, his eyes piercing through me with the wisdom of countless generations. After what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice resonating like an echo from the earth itself:

When you stand with your back to the light,

Your shadow stretches long before your sight.

You rejoice in this dark reflection,

For it mirrors your ego’s projection.

Many fear to face the light’s glare,  

Dreading blindness, they simply don’t dare.

In their retreat, a strange reversal:

Darkness becomes their light universal.

Some brave souls attempt a quick glance,

But recoil from the radiant expanse.

Their vision blurs, their sight confused,

To brilliance, their eyes unused.

If only they’d grant their eyes time to adjust

To light in its pure, primordial thrust.

But patience eludes them, they turn away,

Missing the dawn of a brighter day.

In darkness, they perceive only shade,

Unaware of the light that never fades.

If they’d step from their self-made night,

They’d find within an inner light.

But alas, they cling to familiar gloom,

In shadows of their mind’s own room.

The radiance within remains unseen,

A potential unrealized, a life’s might-have-been.

© 2024 A. Fayez Jammal

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