(x = space)
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Shadowlands
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Plato
C. S. Lewis
My hand by
The computer light
Shadows with shadows,
I suppose
With something firmer
On the other side
That could be relied on
For an eternity
Something waiting
Something inspiring
An ideal
A world of ideals
That’s what we learned
In school
So what have we here?
Which world shimmers
For the other
Though we presume
The other world’s better?
What do we sense here?
What do we make?
What lasts?
We have our treasures
And we try to keep them
We use guards
We have alarms
Things might fade anyway
Or break
And we keep making
Stockpiling art
With care
In both kinds of caves
Like those who aren’t so well-
Obsessed with money
Or better
With a hope for all
The way we might stockpile food
And why not
Against the day
Except for exigent hunger
(there should be enough
for both)
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Yet if they’re right
We’ll have it all again
Art and food
Anything of profit
By virtue,
Perfect there
And permanent
And with ourselves, perhaps,
Polished and redeemed
As on this side
We sometimes polish
Precious metal with
Satisfaction after
That self-effacing
Might be and become
A shimmering
Evangelism:
Grand art, you see,
And easy,
Arduous science
For both
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C L Couch
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the verse alludes to Plato’s allegory of the cave
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the title is a term that is a metaphor for mortal life
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