If shadows could be eaten
They would not mate with light
Long or short, they welcome attention
Blurring lines, between rich and poor
They aren’t vain as mirrors
None can escape their pursuit
They don’t leave a stain
Either on the sky, or the ground
The shadows of the past
Cannot be caught with fingers or traps
Grabbing them is a mirage
We only get a fistful of air
Fading into the dark
They are useless as guides
When the mist settles
We see a grey squall
The shadowless world
Of daydreams and castles in air
Aren’t lit by the light of the present
But it is a start
Leaving shadows behind
Is a pursuit, it elevates the mindful
Where light does not cast shadows
One is safe, from the travails of the ego and kind
- N. Seshadri
