There are no Shadows

The sky has been gray for days,
and snow falls religiously,
only to melt in weather
that moves from barely freezing
to a few degrees warmer.

The trees cast no shadows,
and there is a temptation
to believe they are not there,
that in this grey place you live,
where you have shut out the sun,

that somehow too,
you have banished shadows.

It is a lie of course.

Shadows never die.
Either they dance in the sunshine,
following us as a reminder
of the darkness we are saved from,
a cause for wary celebration, or

they permeate the landscape,
day after day, not quite dark,
not quite light, a nether land
robbed of both joy and fear,
where we choose the landscape

and how much sun we let in, or
smear over our canvas,

in a wash of grey.

About this Poem

Some days you just don’t feel inspired. You are not open to the spirit that helps you create, or or do, or worship effectively. That is where spiritual disciplines come in. You could argue that spiritual disciplines are just habits, but they are habits that keep putting you in place to receive inspiration, to receive power, to receive the gifts that only heartfelt worship provide. Discipline is a bridge from where we are, to where we want to be.

Today was such a day. I had thought on today’s word, “Shadow” through the night last night, and again this morning. But nothing came to me. So I went out with my camera.

It has been very gray here in Vermont for days, snowing at night and in the early morning, then melting and turning to drizzle during the day. Each day it snows and each day, there is less snow on the ground. And there has been no sun.

I took some pictures, because often images spark a memory or an emotion, and what struck me is what a shadowless place Vermont has been the past few days. What if, I wondered, you wrote a poem about shadows that talked about the lack of them? Could I turn it into a poem that talked not just about the outer landscape, but also the inner one? And how we often avoid living in the shadow of the cross, but pretending that shadow is not there.

And, from that, this poem.

The picture was taken this morning, in Hebron, NY, the town that butts up against my own town. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

About these Lenten Poems

My friend Cathy Benson is on to something. Instead of doing without for Lent, she is doing MORE with a prayer project that is thoughtful and caring.

Giving up something for Lent is a church tradition, not a biblical command. It was designed to get our minds and hearts right as we approach the holy week and Easter. It’s a good spiritual discipline.

But I think a spiritual discipline of doing something more is also a powerful way to prepare our hearts for Easter. The Methodists, through their “Rethink Church” initiative have come up with a photographic way to do this (see below). I am going to add a poem with each image for the lent season to help prepare myself. Feel free to glom on to the idea, visit the blog and read, or share your thoughts and prayers.