SHADOWS & SHADES
Dr. R. R. Menon
Shadows goose-step in front,
or follow you with a look that won’t
kill you, but do as much, with a slant
and size based on the fall of light
that helps the growth of the money-plant.
Except at noon when you are ablaze
like the equinox sun, or in your night phase
like some odd wife of long-wedded years
neither living in peace nor leaving for fears.
They could well be self-created by vaunted
darkness of the mind, or by the unwanted
residues of thoughts that float around
to subjugate you when the ground
you stand on, develop deep fissures
of despair or defeat due to intense pressures.
Shadows are yesterday’s memories
that coalesce as your unspecified worries.
Shades are but steps in each mood-colour,
less dangerous, but fixing each moment
with a glue of doubt, and uncertainty’s pallor
that lets you decide through time’s torment.
Shades in the long run readily fulfil
the twists and turns of your taste and will.
Shadows are right when the sun scorches
you to stretch beyond the reached beaches
beside the sea, wide, deep and dark, that watches
the futile, frantic, time-clipped searches.
And shadows you avoid when the light-source
is within, not without, no regret or remorse
driving out light. Yet you patiently wait because
they bring respite, and sharpen each pause
with a tactile sense that sensitizes the paws.