Of Shadows & Reflections

Evening shadows of affection

Still circle my every step;

When smaller reflections of me

Are now toddling their toes.


I am not so old, I am not so young

Just so much that the worlds changed.

I was somebody’s reflection once;

Today I reflect in another face.


Some dreams I’m chasing still,

Backlog of my shadows…

Yet, unwittingly I dream more

For my reflections to swallow.


I was born of them? … Yes.

 But for them? …  I might say no.

As much my shadows love me;

I love my reflections more.


The passage of time it is,

 From clear reflections to misty shadows,

No one escapes its strike on the anvil;

Nature has its justice to blow.


Makes you wonder, what is it to be someone’s child and someone’s parent at the same time…

The concern and love of our parents never diminishes, is part of our every step, no matter that we ourselves are parents now.

Though sometimes it feels as if we are still carrying the backlog of their lingering dreams, they saw for us. And it’s tiring. Yet, we do the same with our own reflections, pass on the burden of our dreams onto them.

It is a bitter irony that as parents we can’t love anyone more than our own children, not even our own parents. It is an inevitable passage of time where we all cover that distance from being our parents’ clear reflections to becoming our childrens’ misty shadows. It is the irrevocable justice of nature.


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