The man and the mirror

A poem

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The man and the mirror

Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash

Years ago
the weight
of a world
stood on my shoulders
blocking the sun.

I stood strong
and grew stronger
as one does
when one works
with their body.

But it was cold,
damn it was cold
in the dark 
of that shadow.

Each way I turned,
even when I turned
my face to the sun
that weight would whirl
and keep every ounce
of light
from my skin.

I could see
a silver lining
and it meant nothing.

I covered
every part of me
that had learned
in past times
to bask in sun’s rays
and savor warm breeze.

Frostbite
found me 
anyway.

It was a mirror
that turned
my fortune around.
Mirrors know how
to bend light
into dark places,
propped on a stone and
angled to the sun and
all I had to do
was walk to where
the sun’s reflection 
looked up.

Light from below.

The weight
of a world
on my shoulders
just stood there
casting its shadow
to the sky.

After some time
it climbed down 
in frustration
to block
the mirror’s 
reflected light.

And the sun poured down on my shoulders
warming every frozen part of me.

I walked off 
with sun overhead
and decided 
to leave 
that weight 
behind.

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Thank you for reading! Consider leaving a comment about what strikes you, speaks to you, or stirs in you while you read. I look forward to whatever dialogue happens here, and within a week I will be following up with a Reflection post on how this poem emerged into being.

Brian

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