i am no icarus {a poem}

My shadow leads me, but only when I run
away from the sun.
I do not think that is symbolic—
turning away from the light and all that.

On an early morning run, I go west
for practical reasons:
The rising sun hurts my eyes.
I do not like to squint.

My shadow leads me,
down the road, the path,
the way.

Show me the way I should go, O Lord,
for I have put my trust in you.

Not in this dark shadow, this darkened light,
this darkness stretching
before me.