Shadow me this
Shadow. Shadow me.
I do.
I walk beside, or glide before, or trail behind you. I’m not blind, just obscured by you, darkened, silenced. Do you hear my warnings?
Slow down! Look!
Do you see or feel my companionship, because I am here with you, even when the skies are grey and I fade to a ghost of myself?
Perhaps you think I am untrustworthy, that because I shrink and stretch according to the sun and that, as light bends in the heat of the desert, my affections waver. Perhaps you think I resent you because you block me from the sun and without you I would be free.
Without you I would be lost.
I am constant, as real as night and day, light and dark. You are my angler. You cast me.
And as the sun sinks, I lean further and further ahead of you, leading the way, until night falls.