Mirrors

Silvered glint o’er darkened

Panels reflects only

The light from a metaphysical

Source born of the soul…

Emotion ripples across those

Glassy walls, forming a tidal wave

Of brilliant light and

Shimmering darkness alive

With the ebb and flow of power…

The barest touch of a fingertip

Activates those slender lines

Along which webs of memory

Are so fastidiously woven,

Pulling from one’s very soul

That ethereal mana

Spilling forth o’er

The windows to a world

In absolute reverse…

So beautiful, those

Panes of silver-backed clarity

That lead to the darkness

Beyond one’s vision,

Brightening as the sun returns…

That great monolith so shyly

Peeking over the sleepy horizon,

It’s shining tendrils creeping, touching

The reflection glimmering in glory…

-chuckles- I blame Miyavi again…this time his lyrics reminded me of a set of mirrors that I remembered seeing when I was a kid, and being fascinated by them…I always believed that there was a world behind them…they do form stanzas, strangely enough this time, with 4, 5, and 9, then 5 and 4 again…yeah…anywho, off to work on research paper(s)…yay…

Laters,

KD