The Shadow

The Shadow


A river is just a river; but then,
it’s never exactly the same again.
The reflected face in the water is me;
but, I'm not the same man that I used to be.

The future welcomes hope and promises.
The past is never what we thought it was.
Now, is but a cloud floating in the sky;
life’s brief shadow is seen -- then passes by.

Clouds, like us, are shaped by the winds of change.
Buffeted, we arrange then re-arrange
rough and ragged shapes trying to conform;
trying, without success, to fit the norm.

Each day a battle we win, lose or draw,
beaten back, or up the mountain we claw.
Is it for wisdom, or fortune, or fame
that we’re goaded on to success or shame?

The image in the glass looks back at me
and questions, “Was it worth it just to be
who I see looking back?” -- The die is cast;
my brief shadow is seen and then is passed.

In times to come, will it be said of me?
“He gave his all, the best that he could be.
He battled adversities to the death
and conquered them until his dying breath.”

How does one come to judge another man?
Can we carry his burden, see his plan;
or walk in his shoes, know the reason why?
No -- There but for the grace of God go I.1

Footnotes
1  The last line of this poem is a variant of a line attributed to John Bradford who, under the reign of the Catholic, Queen Mary Tudor, was brought to Newgate Prison to be burned at the stake. Bradford, who had become somewhat well known for his devotion to the Church of England was arrested and imprisoned on a trivial charge of “trying to stir up a mob”.

At some time during his imprisonment, he witnessed a group of prisoners being led to their execution and remarked, "There but for the grace of God, goes John Bradford," the phrase for which he is best remembered, and which has survived in common parlance in its variant, "There but by the grace of God go I." (Source: Wikipedia)