The Mirror Cycle (Poetry)

I. The Mirror Isn’t Me

(Philosophical — AABB)

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I look into the mirror’s face,

A quiet, silver, borrowed space.

It copies me without a sound,

Reversed, confined, and tightly bound.

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It seems so real, yet not quite whole,

A hollow shape without a soul.

It moves as though it understands,

But only mirrors what commands.

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I lift my hand, the ghost replies,

The same hand lives behind its eyes.

We act in sync, we seem aligned,

Yet glass divides the soul and mind.

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I stare too long, I start to blur,

What’s me, what’s not? I can’t infer.

For in its gaze, I seem to see

The thought that thinks of watching me.

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The mirror isn’t real at all,

It’s truth compressed, made optical.

A lie that looks like honesty,

A light-born trick of symmetry.

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But in that falsehood hides a key:

To see the lie, you must see thee.

And once you see the mask’s deceit,

You glimpse the ground beneath your feet.

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II. Glass Ghost

(Whimsical – ABAB)

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A ghost resides in mirrored panes,

It mimics what I do.

It never sleeps, it never wanes,

It fades when I am through.

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Its eyes are bright but see no light,

Its lips can form no word.

It stands with me in morning bright,

Yet speaks no truth that’s heard.

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I wave hello; it waves hello,

A silent puppet twin.

I turn away — it has to go,

It ends where I begin.

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How strange, this dance of form and face,

This mimic made of gleam.

It guards the border, time, and space,

Between the real and dream.

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The mirror smiles, I smile back,

The glass begins to hum.

It keeps the world from turning black,

By showing what I’ve become.

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And though it knows no heart, no will,

No thought, no hope, no cry,

The glass ghost watches, standing still,

While all reflections lie.

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III. Reflections Lie

(Spiritual – AABB)

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Reflections lie, though dressed in grace,

They only copy form and face.

They show what’s seen, but not what’s known,

The shell, not soul, the flesh, not bone.

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You think you see your truest part,

But mirrors cannot show the heart.

They bend the light, they twist the truth,

They keep you fixed in endless youth.

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The mirror hides what time reveals,

The scars beneath the way one feels.

It shows the eyes, but not the tears,

The shell of strength, the core of fears.

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For truth is not in glass or hue,

It’s found in what no light can view.

God doesn’t see as mortals see,

He looks within the heart’s decree.

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The mirror tells me who I seem,

But faith tells me who I am.

The world may show a shallow dream,

But heaven knows the deeper plan.

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So when I see that mirrored gaze,

I pray it breaks — that light decays.

For I’d rather lose the image bright

Than trade my soul for perfect sight.

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IV. Boats Float, Beds Sleep, and Mirrors Think

(Satirical / Meta – ABAB)

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Boats float because they don’t go down,

They stay on top, you see.

And beds are where we sleep in town,

Because they’re beds — logically.

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The mirror shows what mirrors show,

Which is, of course, your face.

And why it’s backward? I don’t know,

It’s simply mirror-space.

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A thing is what a thing will be,

Because it is that thing.

And all that’s seen is meant to see

The seeing it can bring.

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So if you think your thought was thought,

Then think again, my friend.

For thoughts that think they think a lot

Think thoughts that never end.

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Time moves slow because it’s not too fast,

It keeps a steady beat.

And water’s wet because, at last,

It sticks to what’s beneath your feet.

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Profound, absurd, and yet somehow

It feels like reason’s crown —

We call it wisdom, take a bow,

And write the nonsense down.

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For mirrors teach us, in their way,

That sense is just display.

And what we think we think today

Might think us back someday.

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Epilogue: The Other Side of Glass

(Closing reflection – AABB)

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The mirror fades, the ghost is gone,

Yet I remain, still looking on.

For what I saw was never true,

But truth revealed in seeing through.

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To know the self, the glass must break,

And light must fall for sight to wake.

For only when illusions flee,

Can I behold the real in me.

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