Reflecting on Windows
In the double paned window
I have two reflections.
existentially speaking, I am beside myself.
#103
Linda Studley
Can't Put the Pen Down…
Archive for the tag “reflections”
Poem for Moonlit Night
The moon shone bright
in the middle of the night,
rolling ‘round a starry sky,
brushing her hand
‘cross a snowy, sleeping land
she heaved a jaded sigh.
“There’s no one
to play with and have fun
since the water froze below.
And the only sparks
I can kindle in the dark
are the pale ones on the snow.”
Then peering ‘round
a window ledge she found
a dark cascade of prisms.
A beam she cast
sparked a rainbow, and she laughed
as the colours gleamed and glistened.
She played all night
with the prisms and the light
and she never once suspected
that a wakeful eye
was a witness to the sight
and bathed in the light reflected.
Counterpane Counterpoint
In the dark of the night,
when I switch on my light,
my bedside window is an echo of white.
Like a dim extension
of my room, it blends in,
reality merging with bedroom reflection.
At a glance I don’t know
what is quilt, what is snow,
and out of my bed a poplar tree grows
as the snow sings again
its mirrored refrain,
a white counterpoint to a white counterpane.
Rainbows Day and Night
Morning rainbows hang.
Pendant prism reflections
shiver in our breath.
Palms cupped together
hold the sunbeam’s refractions.
Hands filled with colour.
Moonlit prisms gleam.
An eerie rainbow reaches
blindly from midnight.
A glimpse of ghost light
glancing in pale reflections,
Flickers in star glow.
The Light that Holds the Night at Bay
And when I flip this switch the night outside will be gone
and all the windows will gleam with our reflections.
Reflections of you and me and the couch and chair
Reflections of the inner world we create and inhabit.
Like a wall of mirrors, the dark reflections on windows and
patio doors infer that what transpires without
is not as important as what transpires within
I close my eyes and wonder
if the inside of my lids are like the mirror windows.
If I could turn on a light in my head
would everything outside of it disappear?
Would my mind be inundated with dark reflections
Of you and me and thoughts and dreams
As though the perceptions and memories of love
Were more important than the fact
I open my eyes in wonder and see as I’ve never seen before.
Hold me.
#2
“Falling Awake and other poems” now available online! Follow the link below to order your copy!
My CD "New Traditions" is available for listening or digital download
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Linda Studley
Linda Studley is a writer, songwriter, independent recording artist, and sometime graphic artist living in Northern BC, Canada
Linda Studley 