Shadow work is tiring work.This business of delving into one’s deep, this practice of wading around in the muck, Of kicking up fresh refuse.
It’s dark and dank, Squishy and rank, And crawlies slither around one’s feet.
You splash in the mire, dig from the pool, Let the darkness become your light as the string begins its unspool.
Further you go, Around crusted bends holding their old rot, Down tunneled halls scratched with bloodied minds.
Bodies litter the dungeon floors - some are built into the walls! - Children and babe, teen and man.
Your eyes dead and dull in the deep, Observing this descent. So gaze ahead, and drop further down!
Fall into the pool below, fall headfirst! And let this mask rip off, float off, And see for the first time your shadow home.
See for the last time your shadow self, And let the light shining above cast away the dark, And lift you up, up into the sun, up into life’s true start.