Mirror Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

"Now we see through a glass, darkly;
But then face to face:
Now I know in part;
But then shall I know even as also I am known."

Looking again for recognition and acceptance,
Cleansing skin and wiping sebum
From the oily insets of your nose lobes,
The time has gone for greeting yourself -
Smiling back to the self-stranger in the mirror
Searching for the younger of the two of you.

Something is lost every day,
Every day we die a little
Neurons fail, memories fade
Hours, places, names
Houses, rivers, continents -
Losing yourself is half the battle,
Each wrinkle accumulating
Without artistry or mastery.

Behind every door is a scream
Open carefully - there may be
Tigers, virgins or executioners
Awaiting the turning of the lock.
Forget threats and inducements
And the regrets of incarceration
What do you sniff - the scent
Of innocence or feline ferocity -
Is perfume deadlier than dander?

Which side are you on?

No matter how you consult the glass
Your interrogation will not turn the key
There is no walking through the mirror
No matter then of liking or disliking
The apparition of ordinary normality -
There is nothing that you cannot face
And no turning away or seeing it through.

You will not find yourself,
It was only ever reflection:
Wipe the sleeps from your eyes
And put away your tissues
They may be useful yet for tears.