"Bubbling up in our own good time-- online."
Groundwaters Publishing, LLC
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Volume 1 Issue 1
Page 24
Page 24
Light, heat, and sound change direction
when they strike those looking-glass eyes,
eyelids folded back on themselves
to allow nothing inside.
You’re a mirror, not a photograph.
And I am more than the sum
of my images, lovely bits of past
made present for a planned tomorrow.
My reflection shows the state of you;
the more you polish, the less you refract,
the brighter I appear, the better
to examine every detail.
Yes, you are not a photograph,
not a time remembered, not fixed,
except when you stand still to hold me
who cannot be held in a million mirrors.
Light lives without limits.
Shining is an action verb.
You help me pretend to grasp
What I Am
and much that I am not.
I see what you’re saying;
I hear your eyes on me, still, as I gaze.
I think I feel I can change without you.
Yet I cannot leave you
and I will not forsake myself.
I’ll draw you back into me,
into the light, heat, and sound,
into our transformation
to beauty and warmth and music.
Nothing held apart,
nothing to dissect to oblivion;
just shining, just loving,
in a million billion rays
(oh, did I say ways?)
endlessly reaching out
to strike all the pieces we become,
mirrors and mirrors and mirrors!
(I would miss the sparkle).
when they strike those looking-glass eyes,
eyelids folded back on themselves
to allow nothing inside.
You’re a mirror, not a photograph.
And I am more than the sum
of my images, lovely bits of past
made present for a planned tomorrow.
My reflection shows the state of you;
the more you polish, the less you refract,
the brighter I appear, the better
to examine every detail.
Yes, you are not a photograph,
not a time remembered, not fixed,
except when you stand still to hold me
who cannot be held in a million mirrors.
Light lives without limits.
Shining is an action verb.
You help me pretend to grasp
What I Am
and much that I am not.
I see what you’re saying;
I hear your eyes on me, still, as I gaze.
I think I feel I can change without you.
Yet I cannot leave you
and I will not forsake myself.
I’ll draw you back into me,
into the light, heat, and sound,
into our transformation
to beauty and warmth and music.
Nothing held apart,
nothing to dissect to oblivion;
just shining, just loving,
in a million billion rays
(oh, did I say ways?)
endlessly reaching out
to strike all the pieces we become,
mirrors and mirrors and mirrors!
(I would miss the sparkle).
| Refractory: Into the Mirrorworks By Judy Hays-Eberts |