I Left You In the Mirror

Maybe you are crying still

Our eyes met briefly through the pane

When I walked away with no glance back

I thought I heard your hand tap gently

On the golden gilded frame

It’s been years since I last saw you there

Generations past

I think I see your shadow waver

Glimpses through the looking glass

I shut my eyes and turn away

This path is long and neverending

Quietly descending

Then loudly challenging the force

Of gravity’s heel clutching fingers

I won’t look

I left you in the mirror

And as far as I can care to know

You’re standing in there still

Yet I write these letters

Hoping that you’ll see

We’ve almost made it home now

Almost there

It won’t be long now

Almost free

And in the morning misty air

Shower fogged and steamy mirror

I thought I saw you wave to me

Still safe behind the glass

I held your gaze a moment

And made peace with the past

mirror reflecting tender hand with pink rose
Photo by Ruba Abdulaziz on Pexels.com

I went into my draft folder to delete this morning’s draft and found this titled, but unwritten post. As they do sometimes, the words flowed easily. When I went looking for a photo, I found this one captivating, and better than the image I thought I had been seeking.

Small Illumination

When the night falls silently

Cloaked over the restless day

Fears of the dark and unknown

Rising within and surrounding without

Each step feels fraught

Will the ground hold

Will the path stay steady

Is there a missed obstruction

Feet tripping over downed branches

Choices not taken or rued

How the heart beats faster

Shallows in the breath

The ominous quiet pervades

Calm is the challenge

Centering within

Cultivating a small illumination

That window to an infinite light

Texturing a peace

Like still water refelecting

The light of the round moon

Whole

Through the mists of fate

One sure step taken

To reveal the next

This is how, then

The journey resumes

In this small illuminated place

Couple (with audio)

They look over the water

From grizzled visage

The years layered and weathered

On sentinel faces

She wonders if spring will come soon

And if the family of mallards will return this year

He is watching a crow fly and doesn’t answer

She did not need him to answer

After so many years

The most important conversations were silent

They overlook

They withstand the changing seasons

Growing older

Perhaps growing wiser

It’s hard to tell from here

Watching the bark shift in the dancing light

I think they are happy there

Together by the water

As their silences span days, and months, and years

I visit when I can

And listen to the wisdom

Left unsaid

Thrumming from the tree which

Holds them sacred

Vigilant couple

Watching over the water

Keeping an eye on the sky

I’ll be back

I tell them

But they know that maybe I will

And maybe I won’t

After I’ve left she tells him

They always think they know

And that’s their biggest flaw

He looks at the sky, empty now

And holds his peace

Kicked to the Curb (with Audio)

On a dingy curb they sat

She in a dress once white

Grubby ruffles sliding down

From scabbed knees

Bare feet in the gutter

A thin arm wrapped around

His shoulders boney under

A faded blue shirt

His grim shorts matched

The grey cement

She called his name as she

Held him

Grabbed his elbows then

Wove her arms into his

The traffic in front of them

Pulsed in fumes and beats

Music poured out from cracked

Windows

Behind them legs took people

Quickly to their next appointment

She called his name

She called his name

I need you, she said

She called his name

I’m sorry, so sorry, so sorry

She called his name

Please survive

I will find you

In this bubble outside of time

Pact struck

Within the swirling city

That never was

Children who never were young

Spit on palms and clasped hands

Making promises

For the future

Writing hope into the lamplight

Singing dirges to the past

Drawing stick figures in grime

A couple kissing

Two in love

Encircled by an asymmetric heart

And when they woke

To another day in hell

Apart and never parted

Hanging on by a thin thread

Woven from a fragment of a

Dream half remembered

Until the day it was needed

“I’m glad you made it,” she said

“I feel selfish for needing you to survive that.”

“I hope you found some joy in the sunlight,

And laughter in the wind,

And peace in the water,

And love growing up from the soil.”

Possibilities swirled around them

Standing there between the light

And the Abyss

A single path began to coalesce

As he slid his hand into hers

“I said I would find you,” he told her

Every star in the sky became a blossom

Every flower in the meadow burst into flames

Birds became dragons

Whales flew through purple skies

Smoke curled up from stone chimney

A cat slept next to a dog in front of the hearth

They curled together under a blanket on the couch

She began to read to him from an unfinished book

When he closed his eyes for a moment

Under the words she spoke, he heard her call his name

And his name meant home to her

And so he stayed

monochrome photo of person sitting on curb
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

Moonlit Gift

As I lay sleeping

Curtains open to the night

A slice of moon tapped at my pillow

Cool bright touch upon my face

How young I was and

Fearful of the dark

Yet in that quiet moment came awake

In the silent benediction of the light

For a few moments in communion

Listening to the early morning hush

A peace stole over me, and entered in my heart

It will be all right, one day

Just like this moment in the night

Each luminescent touch down through the years

Planting hope and weeding out the fears

Another reason to hold onto this life

And wait out the darkness until the dawn

For years I sat in darkness, silent

Until the dawn