As an infant, I recall the old maple tree’s leaf shadows frolicking across the bedroom walls. This is my earliest memory. The umbra of the crib sheltered me while the flicker of light played tag with the afternoon shade. I must have pondered this display, as a child does in the newness of the world, for the memories have traveled a lifetime’s journey.
Now, I play shadow games with my grandchildren. We stroll darken forest paths or build sand castles in the shade of another maple tree, as the sweltering sun hangs in the summer sky. The same sun, but new shadows fill my days. The crib no longer my sanctuary; I am hidden under the care of something, SOMEONE, greater.
Above… heaven’s gate;
souls seek refuge in shadows.
The Almighty waits…
“He who dwells in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91:1
Who doesn’t remember playing with shadows? Over at dVerse poets are taking shadows to the next step. Stop in.