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              MY WILL                         

(i leave my shadow)


I leave my shadow to the light.

Both its creator and enemy,

To hold apart,

As the shoreline, and the sea,

Or run, muddy, together,

As the waves and sand.

Will the sun shine in the night?

I leave my shadow... to the light.


I leave my reflection to the mirror.

To stay enclosed in loneliness,

Living forever within itself,

Changing expression, but not form.

For it is the best reminder

Of the image that remains.

May its prayers show no fear.

I leave my reflection... in the mirror.


I leave my prayers to the priest.

For he has searched thru lost souls,

And knows not of pathways straight,

Though he walks the narrow.

He would hold my prayers to his heart,

And feel a love tear him apart.

He will feel the most, and the least.

I leave my prayers… to the priest.


I leave my tears to the wind.

For they are already lost again,

And blow at speeds beyond gravity,

Driving cartwheels with despair,

Whether watering grasses or forming clouds,

They never leave or go away.

Are there no new raindrops to send?

I leave my tears… to the wind.

I leave my footsteps to time.

To make the prints of those

Who will not be back.

To walk where all have walked before,

A highway here, then, nevermore.

Placed between now and then,

When lost is found, and waste a crime,

I leave my footsteps… to time.


I leave my thoughts to silence.

For they have been partners at times,

And know each intimate kiss as lovers.

They will make no excuses,

Nor hide behind each other,

For no longer is the need

To make false gestures or give vague hints.

I leave my thoughts… to silence.


I leave my poems to darkness.

To crawl thru closed notebooks,

In the bottom of narrow closets,

Or be stored in damp garage boxes.

To be passed between the corners,

Awaiting the final decision and guilt:

To be sent away, or find a spark.

I leave my poems… in the dark.


I leave my hope to my heart.

For they have both ended

As history passed too far.

Both have tired, and slowed,

And if either has carried a flame,

It has flickered, then waned.

The end was not as the start.

I leave my hope… in my heart.


And I leave my love to you.

For you have looked upon it

As we look at distant galaxies,

And passed it between your fingers,

As I have an autumn leaf.

It has sprung upon us, winter’s coming,

An axis through my heart anew.

I leave my love… to you.


And I leave my life to my will.

For though neither has known the other,

They have given each other everything.

As one ends, one begins.

Though they are all that’s left of the other,

And if will is too strong, I won’t.

But when paper and pulse are still,

I leave my life… in my will.


                                                                                   ~~~ by Michael Chaussee



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