Mirror Whim

When a mirror faces a mirror,
it makes many tiny worlds.
Each of those realms,
I carry in my mind,
remembering a different part of reality,
as my eyes flutter in dream.
I tasted the ocean,
in her eyes
I caught the sun,
in her hair,
I sang to the wind,
in her mind,
I carried the mountain,
in her heart,
My spirit is silver, reflecting back,
I see the reverse image,
The other part of the equation,
Jolting alternating current,
to my direction’s whim

Published by Shining Quill of Deeply Rooted

I've been dedicated to Paganism and Earth Magick for 18+ years since Mabon 1999. I am a writer, an artist, and a student of nature.

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