Twelve Shades, Spoken

Can a Shade be given Heart,
And taken to surroundings,
Like boughs among gossamer weeds.

Could a Shade be filled with joy,
Wrapped with arms and rooted,
Taken in soil that fails diffusion.

Would a Shade replace your shadow,
Could it cast softly from your back.
Crawling slowly, marking time,
Leaving imprints of your essence.

Is a Shade something
You feel.
Is a Shade but a shadow
Felt.

A shade could swim forever,
In essence, through under,
Like sunrise,
In serial.

A Shade could gift the sun,
If given proper pigment,
If tinted proper color.

But what is Shade but darkness?
Yet darkness, understood
is not absence,
but presence.
A spectrum, unkempt 
with unseen color.

Is a Shadow something
Shaded.
Could a Shade be Shadowed
By a silent shaded copse?

In essence, a Shade will nip your heels.
In silence, it finds the proper place.
In peace, provides you with soft protection.

Together, we are Shades gathered,
Held by something stolen.
A shadow making time.

But you are a Shade yet taken,
Given over to question.
A shadow given depth.

I am a Shade spoken,
Burdened by question.
A shadow taking rest.