THE SHADOW - OF COLD

The Shadow of Cold


I.
Some find the shadow in darkness
In vine haunted forests of rot and mould
The shadow of my soul awaits
In the barren blue wraith of cold

In a world without joy or gladness
Too cold for sigh or tear
Nothing lives in the frozen waste
But the whisper of a frigid fear

A fear that unbinds all reason
Leaving nothing that I can prove
A fear that freezes every cell
And leaves me unable to move

Unable to access water or air
Or to call on the power of fire
Unable to feel dejection, delight
Bright passion or dreaming desire

Unable to laugh, unable to cry
A paralyzed, helpless disease
Curves my spine, drops my head
Numbs my muscles until they freeze

Shadow of impotence and blue ice . . .
Not what I would have chosen
Powerless, useless, immobile
Bound and locked and frozen



II.
I have found the shadow secreted
I have found the power to tame it
I have called it from the blue ice fields
Because I am able to name it

I know the fear of freezing
I know from where it came
I know the fear of fear itself
I have given it a name

I know of crippling shame
I know of ice cold dread
I broke the back of the shadow
When I learned to lift my head

I couldn’t have tracked the shadow
If I hadn’t have known it
I couldn’t have swallowed the shadow
If I hadn’t come to own it


©Edwina Peterson Cross