Into My Own Mirror I Shall See My Own Image

the whirpools of my mind
on a narrow strip my thoughts shall flow
and then strangely enough
the path widens unnecessarily from this
island
some whirpools
giant whirpools in fact i see from a distance
where i stand
but
i have no fears
because i am with you
and you are always silent
i take your hands
to my hands
and bring the mirror in the ship
sailing west
bound for England
perhaps there we will see some images
but not of ourselves
theirs
shall we be sad?

there is no bother
they are our brothers too.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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