The Mar
mh   1/25/98


Ripples skim across the glassy sea
   moving ever farther from me

Overhead the sky reflects the glass upon itself
   like two giant mirrors facing each other on some magickal shelf

I stare and stare at the wondrous glare
   many different images of the same thing
   appear as I delve into that looking glass
   and examine the smeared reflection of man:  a putrid heart.

X-Ray vision on a spiritual scale:
   I see embers of remorse	
     feel embers of hate
   embers all pointing to my own private hell

I clutch at one hoping to rip it free
   yet it is as insubstantial as dew, while more constant
   
I fret I will never rid my soul of these slippery devils
   when I am broken from my trance:

Two logs, perpendicularly attached, float across my sea.
   Water cascades upward from them and cleanses my soul,
   setting me free.