Monday Morning Musings:
“We kiss in a shadow
We hide from the moon
Our meetings are few
And over too soon”
From “We Kiss in a Shadow,” Oscar Hammerstein II and Richard Rodgers, The King and I
“When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; “
–From William Butler Yeats, “When You are Old”
When our older daughter was young
she was afraid of shadows
perhaps she sensed that they were alive,
captured, like Peter Pan’s
when our porch windows were shut.
“Shadows hurting you,” she would say,
only “you” meant “me,”
her pronouns confused,
and so, we played in another room
where the shadows were benign.
those porch shadows are long gone
the girl is a woman,
her small, curly-haired shadow gone,
except in my heart,
now older, I take out these memories
like a book,
to read before the fire.
We go to a dance performance,
a fusion of dance and shadow puppet theater,
a full-length production
of athleticism, grace, and imagination,
we’re caught in traffic on the way there,
an entire block closed,
a large crane in its center, reaching to the sky,
casting a shadow over the street
where police officers chatted,
(ignoring the frustrated drivers).
We manage to get to the theater,
pick up our tickets,
get to our seats
(close enough to see the dancers’ muscles),
about a minute before the show starts–
it’s worth it.
The story opens with a girl getting ready for bed
her parents kiss her goodnight,
she goes to sleep on her bed made of dancers,
she begins to dream,
the walls spin,
and she becomes trapped in a land of shadows
where she goes on a voyage of discovery
turned into a dog-girl
experiences the joy of a dog riding in a truck,
the horror of being forced to perform in a circus,
controlled by a whip,
the ecstasy of first love,
the girl becoming a woman,
the shadow world is a magical, fantasy world,
the dancers’ bodies tumble, roll, fly
the hour and a half goes by quickly,
the dancers perform an epilogue,
a shadow tribute to New York City,
bodies creating the Statue of Liberty, the library lion, 42nd Street,
and other iconic spots,
and then to Philadelphia,
the Liberty Bell, the “Rocky Steps,” Pat’s and Geno’s Steaks,
at the final bow, the dog-girl dance leaps into the air,
seemingly still full of energy,
the shadows of the show behind her now–
until the next performance
We leave smiling
into a day of sunlight and shadows
in a city where history has cast a long shadow,
shadows through history,
now and always,
shadow worlds
where people are forced to work,
living secret lives,
held in bondage
or living hidden,
an underground economy,
people who can only kiss
in shadows,
though love is love is love
there are shadowlands all around us
obscured by smiles and sunshine
We walk and talk,
see students celebrating Holi,
their faces and shirts bright with colors,
no shadows on their smiling faces,
on this spring day
the flowers smile and dance in the radiant light,
we drink coffee
discuss the show
later, we go out to dinner,
drink some wine and talk some more,
when we leave
the moon is shining brightly
though not quite full,
I look at her,
wonder what secrets she has seen
from her shadows deep,
hidden lovers and girlish fancies,
we head home,
I dream of shadows and the moon.
This musing is for NaPoWriMo, Day 10. The prompt was portrait.
We saw Pilobolous at the Annenberg Center in Philadelphia.
You can see a brief clip of this show performed at another location here.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
Lovely, Merril. You paint a tender, delicate portrait.
Thank you, Jane.
If you’ve written of the moon and shadows, I’ll have to catch up later. 🙂
I haven’t written anything yet 🙂 Just a haiku for Ronovan’s challenge.
I’m sure you’ll have more by the time I get back to this. 🙂
Maybe 🙂
🙂
benign shadows — love that —
Thank you.
Your post reminded me of the Robert Louis Stevenson poem “My Shadow” my mother recited to me: “I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me./And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.” A benign shadow to be sure – not at all scary.
Thanks, Marian.
I think shadows have always fascinated people. There are so many works–literary, visual, dance, and theater–going back to ancient times that involve actual shadows or shadow themes.
Love your poetic approach to family stories, Merril. I think you could compile these into a memoir. A new approach to a book of poetry.
Awwww–thank you so much, Carol.
It’s something I am considering,and I definitely appreciate your encouragement!
She has seen much. She will see much more, and we will continue to look to her for inspiration.
Thanks, Ken. Yes, she has and yes we will.
I love all those show tunes, so entwined with my mother. As usual, not you’ve got me thinking. Shadows and the moon. The moon was magical last night, wasn’t it? (K)
Thanks, Kerfe. I love all those show tunes, too. 🙂
The moon has been magical the last few nights, and so big and bright last night!
Merril, I was going to post a full moon picture or two and now, I am “speechless!” I am very happy to read all the versions of shadows and light within memories of daughter, her fear of shadows, the play you watched and coming out into the light, and then dinner and a nearly full moon! This seems to twinkle! 🙂
Thanks so much, Robin. I’m sure your full moon photos will be much better than mine. We both struck by how bright the moon was, even though it wasn’t quite full. We saw Jupiter, too.
Pilobolus is an amazing dance company. We’ve seen them before, but this full-length production was wonderful.
Merril, I think it would be cool to see Jupiter. I didn’t look nor realize it was up there! I’ll see which direction it is from NASA site. Maybe catch it another night. Wednesday already. . . hope your week continues to go well. xo
Right now, Jupiter is the very bright “star” you see next to the moon.
Hope the rest of your week goes well, too!
I just love the journeys you take us on. This is so tender and touching. Thank you
That is so kind. Thank you, Damien!
Love this musing of shadows …
Thank you, Marie! 🙂
I like the way you muse. I can understand your young daughter being afraid of shadows. I think at some times that we all should be. 😧
Thanks so much, Pam.
I’m sure she doesn’t remember it,
but my husband and I both thought of “Shadows hurting you” after the performance. 🙂