Upon the mantle...
upon the mantle it stood
small, black and white,
a vision of another time
when I believed in might,
and fought the battle
with my arms held tight,
but now, a mirror stands
upon the mantle staring,
and I look at the image
and find myself smiling,
laughing at what never was
and see you there, shining,
if I had tried to listen
oh, those many years ago,
what would be inside, here
and for me to know,
so I look at the picture
I thought would grow,
into a family, a heart
and finally a soul,
when all along it was there
sitting on my mantle
inside a mirror
of my own
eyes
©1996 Quelonzia/Terry Schorer