Do Not Weep Lonely Mirror

The mirror in which I sought myself once

sought me in turn, when spurned,

its emptiness grew too vast for it to face.

Emptiness, that black hole into which we must fall

each one of us. The mirror pursued me

even as I fled it

time’s wrinkles embedded deep in the

coils of my being. I fled the truth

imprinted on its shining glass.

The truth of countless lies

that rustled like the fugitive wings of birds

evading the trapper,

not knowing how futile my flight. Because

the world might be large

but mirrors are everywhere. And truth,

the chameleon, finds many places to hide itself.

In the starlit eyes of a lover perhaps…

the trusting warmth of a child’s palm,

the adrenaline burst of the winning post,

or the murky pool of failure. Even in

the flashing pane of a neighbour’s window

or the reckless flow of your pen across a page.

I could not escape, and yet how long is it

since I have known that the face in the mirror

is not my own. Not the girl who wept in the dark

once. Or boarded a train on a winter morning,

basking in the sun’s warmth.

The woman who found babes in the wood

under a coverlet of fallen leaves

or listened to the urgent summons of a conch

bellowing in the dark behind hidden doors.


Who knows where it is, the face I would call my own

if not in the mirror that faces me?

It is enough that it exists.

Whether flowing secretly in the veins of a leaf,

blowing in the dust of a storm,

or gleaming in a sunset cloud…

So, do not weep lonely mirror

Nothing is as complete as emptiness

Nothing as loud as the silence that speaks.


2 thoughts on “Do Not Weep Lonely Mirror

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