“What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music” ~ Soren Kierkegaard
Alright, here’s this Monday’s edition of MMP. I’ll need to set this one up. The poem below is entitled “Mirror in the Water,” and it was written by yours truly. I wrote this poem about eleven years ago, I believe. I honestly haven’t tried to write any poetry for quite some time. I can’t really explain how the words came to me all those years ago, but I still remember what the poem was about. The words in the poem are intentionally cryptic because I have a difficult time allowing people to really see who I am. Like everyone else I guess, I’m afraid that if I really let people in, they will judge me and reject me. But . . . if you think you can guess what the poem is about, feel free to let me know. So . . . read it, and feel free to laugh, cry, or abominate. Whatever. And by the way, for those interested: the quote above from Kierkegaard is taken from his work Either/Or: A Fragment of Life.
The mirror which makes me see myself, I want to hide.
I retreat to rooms, and push with both hands trying to fight the confrontation.
I open the book in the river, try not to get my feet wet lest I sink.
But I’m already drowning, and not screaming for help.
I look in the mirror and am able to see through the glass,
but there is no waterfall at the end.
It’s like I’m looking upside down
because I ascend at the end of the ride.
My arms are raised, my eyes closed
I’m on the brink of eternal joy.
I’m welcomed by the Great One
and servants, and the rest of my family.
Walking on clouds was never easier.
No thoughts from the past are retreived.
The rivers of water and a mirror
are like this book which shows us who we are.