Waking the Mirror
The mirror sleeps the long night.
When it is dawn and the ritual begins
Waking the mirror
At first small bright flying things
Each shinning with its own light
Each admires its reflection as they fly westward
Then day glow white herons or egrets
spread their massive wings so that the sleepy mirror gets an eye full
and at last, the sun, burning with the white hot fires of a new day
marshals all the hues of the rainbow
calls them by name
and demands they speak their colors into the liquid mirror
The glass is full of light.
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Published by Michael Skinner
I am a traveling poet and digital artist. View profile
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1 Comments
Post a CommentVery good.