by Ted Guhl
When the mirror breaks the heart breaks too;
but finds, after the tears and loss,
mere stillness;
doing nothing, feeling nothing,
needing not, holding not; being
quietly, continually.
In that nothingness behind the mirror
there is room that should not be filled;
emptiness that need not be defined.
Lover, whose friend has died to you, die to all;
leave the mirror, drop the lesson;
and, after the tears and remorse,
be as a still pond.
Allow reflections to be softly born,
live and die in you
quietly, continually.
Back Poetry Writing Home