SHADOWS

Gigi Cuasay

I. The rich

	When every petal opens
	to the early morning sun,
	there are those who smile
	as though smiles are their laws
	and laughter is their god.

	But bright clouds
	let desperate golden rays
	escape at the cracks,
	as fingers of destiny fold ironically
	and the sunset shadows
	give an end to the day.


II. The poor

	When every leaf falls
	from a hunchback tree,
	there are those who cry
	and there are those who sigh,
	as though crying is their deep sleep,
	and sighing is waking from a dream.

	Such that dark clouds are only folded palms,
	and when the fingers of destiny move,
	seeds of light
	escape at the cracks
	and these seeds grow into moons and stars
	that lighten up the face
	of a nighttime sky.














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