The Mirror and the Window

gray0328

 

I sat with my reflection, tired, alone.  

The glass, unkind, gave little comfort back.  

Each flaw unrolled—like some familiar map.  

Still, the journey seemed one only mine.  

 

But then the window, wide, bright, intact,  

spoke louder than the polished mirror’s glare.  

Outside, life moved—an indelible chorus  

singing back my secrets with gentle hands.  

 

Leaning closer, I saw a beckoning there—  

a figure waving in the wheat fields, clear.  

Not judgment, but welcome radiated forth,  

their shadow brushing my reluctant mind.  

 

And from above, a quiet cloudless voice:  

only in twos do truths find their own path.  

The mirror never tells the whole of it—  

the window always opens to helping hands.

  • Author: gray0328 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 30th, 2025 04:12
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 16
  • Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
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Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    A poem that has seduced me into a fave. It mysteriously has biblical images woven in (only in twos) yet speaks in metaphor with mirror and window. There is gentle internal near rhyme that together with the meter caries the reader onward as if rolling down hill to where it ends with the last two wonderful lines. Beautiful

    • gray0328

      Thanks Soren I appreciate your generous feedback

    • Thomas W Case

      Powerful work. Superb.

      • gray0328

        Thanks Thomas I appreciate your feedback and I continue to enjoy your work



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