shadow

beneath the smiles I pass out,
the jokes spoken,
my niceness
and Christian rhetoric
so expertly spouted;
yes just under,
like the tails on a coin
hidden under the head,
my flip side perhaps more real
than the one I foolishly think I know,
dwells the ‘other',
he who is wild,
dangerous,
wanton in disregard for others,
controlled by moods even if buried,
or numbed
by my pious pretensions I sometimes believe.

my over-think
a liability,
causing me to trip over myself,
my true reflection fearful
to my pallid rootless goodness,
no stronger than a mist
soon dissipated by the merciless sun,
for it is light that scours the soul to the bone,
burning ever deeper
for the truth must be told,
held,
even embraced,
if the deeper image is to arise,
the sun's gift,
healing grace
offered.