Shadow is her true companion,
when she stares out beyond the sky
or tries to trust her existence .

As she grows ,she loses the girl
she used to know,
in silent brightness and
sleepy details of long days,
realizing brightness keeps her shadow alive,
believing in dreams that no longer arrive.

She is no more who she was meant to be,
and now her shadow overshadows her,
hope sews the hemmed border of her life,
lengthy wisdom and momentary bloom of love
define her newness ;
even though inside, she holds the reminiscence of
aged prudence , aged stories
like a bucket of assorted mythology.

She’s not old , she’s aged,
said the braided words that sing songs for her,
everyday, under the bright sun.
She and her shadow – together , until death do them part.




Author: Archita

Musings about life and photography.

19 thoughts on “They.”

  1. Archita,
    What a great picture and poem. Both have a lot of interesting tidbits. Have a great weekend!!!

  2. Aww! You loved those ? I loved them too plus hope’s sewing .:D Whenever I talk about hope and daisy , I remember you. Thank you very much, C.K. πŸ™‚

  3. “like a bucket of assorted mythology” and “said the braided words that sing songs for her” – LOVE these two lines the most!

    Archita, the whole poem is beautifully done and I love it! πŸ™‚

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