With death very nigh
To the roses
Inside the last hour
Of day
The mirror moans
Across the room
Like a headlong star-
Lets out, like a lion, a roar of reflection…
The long table stretches over the floor
Like distant thunder and the room silently shudders
As the roses quiescently tremble
And the lion of reflection tramples
Inside the frame of the mirror,
Ever present beneath a headlong star
The sun is setting.
It is time to meditate once more
To resolve within to patiently enter stillness
Like a mirror
As the room is under the grip
Saturn,and Neptune,
The life force expressed
In the perfect order of the planets.
I look through the mirror into the stars,
All my destiny before it,
And see a lion
As the sunset flares in the sky.
The mirror comes alive in orange glare,
Holding the roses as they die
There are figures in it
Besides my own, too many to tell, all of the figures of the arcana
And the roses, the roses sigh redness
As they die the way roses always do,
Gracing the room with their dying blooms
Who, within the certain uncertainty of all of this, sat still sat still
Sat still, breathing, counting breaths, breathing, looking
in between two thoughts?
Like a mirror with a lion, a star and roses within it.
I can’t say
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