Miracle shadows guide me
Strolling along freely like some kind of hippie I’ve befriended
The shadows don’t know what stress is
Nor is happiness a priority
Just living in this moment for the moment
Because they know soon this will all be over
Simply fade away like dust before dusk approaches
Easily they’ve become my best friends
But how can I be jealous of myself?
To what do I owe every piece of capacity within my lungs?
What right does me and my shadows have to take up vital energy and space in God’s atmosphere without serving a purpose?
Who made my worthlessness worthy?
Copyright 2013 Ta’Mesha Smith