Shadow Work

When you have a dream in which you meet yourself 
coming in the door of your childhood home and you look 

at the you looking at you with a level gaze, of course it is 
unnerving. The you in this visitation places his hand 

on your shoulder before moving past you— or is it through 
you—then proceeding up the stairs toward a skylight in the attic 

you don't recall ever being there. If this is the shadow-self 
coming from that place in you of mystery and wildness

and the unknkown, the message he bears is surprising—
You have to stop. Who is the you watching his shadow walking 

away, caught once again in a swirl of obligations to the world?
Perhaps you'll follow him up the stairs. Perhaps you'll lie back

in bed, into the fog of simple sleep from which you can't
retrieve or remember the dreams that visited in the night.

( a partially found poem; thanks to Drew Lopenzina)

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