THE THERAPEUTIC MIRROR Poem by Mark van Tongele

Accept for once that wonderworking exists
and assume that during dream sleep, tonight perhaps,
you will undergo a miraculous visitation: death
falls outside the grace of time. constellations
adopt a different thrum. dawn is riotous in the gulfing
gleam of your most intimate self. look: defrowning
from folded shadows on the floor of your melancholy,
restless hummingbirds of light. like that, you flutter out
from a row of pain trees, hovering in the dead wind,
always ascending in the reborn morning,
always clarifying, beyond all troubles and difficulty.
awakened, will you consider your resurrection?
will you behave accordingly later that day?