If you ask me what is wrong

I won't know what to say

If you ask what I want,

I will still meet you with silence.



Not completely present,

Not entirely here;

There is form

But it is flat,

The definition hidden.



All immaterial,

As a shadow.

This isn't living

It's a shadow life



And yet, like the shadow

I know the definition is still there

All those certainties

All the distinction,

Everything is still present, only

Hidden.



Something must cast the shadow, and

Light must illuminate it.



And then,

I wonder.



I wonder if the walls of glass surrounding me

Appear so clear, because there

Never were such walls penning me in;

There is no way out,

Because the prison does not exist.



I wonder,

If, when looking at my shadow,

I forget

The light that's shining, and

Who's doing the

Looking.