Peter Olevnik


My Morning Mirror - Poem by Peter Olevnik

May I awaken to the light of
my own true nature.
- - - -From a Buddhist Prayer

Looking through the image
before me in my morning mirror,
in a moment's transcendent concentration,
was a stranger staring back at me.

It was an aged face I saw
of steadfast, peering eyes,
a dour page of withered text
composed by time's darker inks.

What lingering memory in morning's mist,
carved those deepened lines,
of loss and choices with no remaking,
etched that face before my mirror dark?

Like an ancient tome to its shelf consigned,
long bound by fore edge clasp and chain,
unlike its words, by their thoughts endowed
set free to drift from page to page.

They're not mine those eyes I see,
but still a child's like mine.
There my mind resides, ageless, roaming rooms
where hope and dreams and fears abide.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about My Morning Mirror by Peter Olevnik

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Thursday, July 4, 2013

Poem Edited: Friday, July 19, 2013


[Hata Bildir]