Shadow ascends tonight.
From what part of the cellar?
This morning I was perfect in death and love;
So many years they have lived in my house.
The familiar is always illusion.
Knowing I do not know, I accept.
The way light accepts the
Ascending darkness.
This house is because I am.
So, what is in that small corner,
That tiny shadow down there,
That is now ascending?
Perhaps, if I am very still,
Waiting with a flashlight,
I will catch it ascending,
Light it into acceptance.