There are no shadows in the dark
So Cissus did not know his spark
Had gone to ground to be found
Nowhere in the watchful bounds
Of searching eyes in seeing towns.
He only knew that she was gone
From anywhere touched by the dawn
And would give all to get her back
But nothing to despair.
So he chose a different tack,
Turning to the burning air
The shadow cried out to the fire,
“Stoke your flames up high and higher,
Wipe me out with all your ire
As I know you most desire,
Wipe out all shadow if you find
My one, my one, my only one,
This is now your time to shine,
Be the light of life, be the Sun.”

Loss will take more than you’ll give,
May this knowledge help defend –
“The End” is somewhat a fib,
It’s never been the end.

Aff had no shadow of her own
And the danger of a wish
Held in both her heart and bones
To know the neverending kiss
Of seemingly a second soul
Thrown from her, against the light,
Against the very myth and might
Of Sun itself, a piece of night
Awake and awhirl in day’s plain sight,
Away from the world of biting bright,
A winking wave in the sea of white.
Aff dipped into a fleeing brook
That dripped down through a crack of earth
In search of distance from the hook
Of always tempting sunny mirth.
Sun would not give into her wants
For a reason no one knew,
Perhaps a grudge it held at once
Against the dark and all it grew.

The heavy world may hold much
That we don’t know could be ours.
Aff opened it with a touch
To find a buried star.

Affodil and Cissus were a pumpkin of a pair,
A jack-o’-lantern really where
One would make the other flare
Up into a gourdy grin,
Then it was the other’s turn
To light the other up within
Till all the happy loving burned
Into sparking fits that earned
A firework explosion
Resulting in erosion
Of poor lightning’s confidence,
A tough and humbling consequence
For the child of the storm.
But Aff and Cis were bright and warm
And welcomed in sad lightning swarms
To join and know the fullest glow
To be found down here below
And all the woe would turn and go
And be lost to long ago.

All stories need a reason
To be told or they’ll be tossed.
This story is a sweet one
But now we come to loss.

One shadow cast a person.
Some things work in reverse.
You could say that he was her son
In a turvy universe,
In a topsy twistiverse,
In a backwards esrevinu
Where it’s best to be foul cursed,
Yes, quite blessed to be called worst.
Now that we’ve dilly-dallied,
Yes, scooped out boshy valleys,
Let’s go join the cloudy owllies
With their view of what the light
Decides might be worth a bite
And what it won’t dare to taste,
Won’t even think to chase,
Would never put a tooth to
Or ever deign to waste
A lick of light upon the face
Of something self-erased.

Light sometimes sweetly misses
In a manner laughable.
The shadow’s name was Cissus,
And his child, Affodil.

If you don’t have a choice, rejoice,
‘Cause you don’t have to care.
If you have to have a choice, a voice,
In what gets done and where
Be sure you listen to your voice
Before you offer it to share.
I’ve let fly some wild birds
That never had a prayer
Of ever being heard
‘Cause however right they were
They were outright absurd,
Their meaning eaten by the words.

Those who dance normally choose
To do so on their feet.
The Rumzumzimmers feel they lose
Their connection to the beat
So they dance on their hearts
In an impossible art
Where mess and beauty meet.

They’re often off time
But time doesn’t matter,
Some call it a crime
As they make a great clatter
So they choose not to listen
Wholly on their own mission
And can’t be insulted or flattered.

The Rumzumzimmers also choose
To sing in a manner that maybe might
Be from a somewhat odder muse
As they pick a perilous fight
With song’s almighty tune,
They use their armpits to croon.
No one gets everything right.

A moral’s its own story
So let’s go on without.
Glory’s often boring
And not what it’s about.
You’re fine to fall,
Some wins are quits,
It is it and that is all,
Let it be and be with it.

There was a snake who ate his tail
And still he goes on swallowing.
It’s long past stale and yet he fails
To see he’s only following
Himself around himself again,
Somehow he’s always hollowing
Himself out of himself again
So still he goes on swallowing.

Hipple blew out the candles,
She blew out the stars,
She blew out a kiss
To all near and far.

Not all wanted kisses,
Nor all the lights out,
They blew back at her
And she’s still tumbling about.

If they forget my name
I’m free.
No one can call me back,
I may, quite simply, be.
If they forget my name
All will have lost my only key.
Except myself, of course,
I must forget I’m me.