Wrestle your shadow until sweaty and limp,
stand up,
press powder to forehead and cheek,
adjust pants and what’s in them–
whichever or both or none–
but set yourself right for the outer world to see
that nothing is happening, not a thing is at stake
and amble down the road as if not fully consumed
by what you almost let slip.
Your badness, your weakness, childishness and
ugliness and incompetence.
Tattered cloth, disheveled hair
they give you away but more
the look
on your face
of shame, perhaps shrouded in pride,
with taste of bile
flooding your tongue
Ah!
What effort and energy wasted
on the inevitable.
Rather than hide and deny,
cover up and clean up,
try turning,
turning toward your shadow in greeting..
Soften instead of wrestle,
invite instead of deny,
look gently, giggle and come to know…
in the folds of great being–wonders and understandings,
unexpected magics and compassion.
Light, dark, braided.
Depth.
Beautiful.