L'art de l'esprit

When I walked,
my feet became my shadow,
blunt, obtuse, searching for an edge,
a true picture,
a sharp strong frame
that has definition.

I searched in confusion,
looking in a distorted malleable mirror.

You help eliminate the distortion,
bring light to shadow,
create a compass,
a steady foot,
leading the mind home

To the spoken, the written word,
the bent to make form out of nothingness.
Shadows no longer visible in caves:
Sun rises to lecture.

by Elizabeth Sydnor, 2004

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