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Poetry > Chris Sidwell-Smith  > Art > Reflections
This is a photo poem
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Reflections
They say that eyes are the windows to the soul; Look closely, they are also mirrors; Reflecting back what the eye sees; Back into you, twisted by the concave of the iris;
They say never get between two mirrors; Your soul will be ripped from you; As a child I disregarded that counsel; Preferring to stand between them and gaze into infinity;
I have always loved water; It appears as one giant, vast mirror; Deforming under the tide, the wind and gravity; Rarely still always shifting, the reflections warping;
I often wanted to visit that world behind the mirror; Everything looked so familiar but alien; I so wanted to be Alice through that looking glass; The physical key to that world eluded me;
But that world is closer than you think; We carry it in our heads right now; We look out though our eyes but; inside us we reflect the world through our personal mirror;
But no mirrors are perfect (speak to NASA!); Often I return to a place to find my image of it; in my mirror has perverted the reality; I often leave these places confused, upset;
But reflections are so ethereal; Untouchable, unreliable; The mirrors themselves hold their secrets close; And a mirror cracked is rarely healed.
Reflections
Reflections
Reflections
Canon EOS 300D DIGITAL |
More details: exif |
Original size: 1491x1680 |
Current: 710x800 |
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