The Mirror Of The Truth Poem by Marieta Maglas

A bleeding cloud
envisioned into the mirror
of a water-eye
is like a face losing its lines,
or like a flower withering in
a falling field.

The wind developing breasts
among three limbs of a tree
is like an ancient, African, tribal woman
dancing in a wedding ceremony,
while seeking cheerfulness.

In reality, there are only

a cloud nascent to rain,
an eye-opening to the luminousness,
and a tree fighting to save
its flowers.

Due to the mirrors,
everything looks like
being always complete, but
this exhaustiveness can be real or not.

In the mirror of the aqua,
never the sky can be itself, and
never its pearls can be extant.

In the mirror of a lie,
maybe the truth looks like verity,
nevertheless, it may never be a certainty.


But, in the Holy mirror,
The Lord is human and
the human being is divine,
and our hearts can be candles
lightning love for our Lord.

Poem by Marieta Maglas