“And
still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus,
who
because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image
he saw
in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But
that
same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans.
It is
the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and
this is
the key to it all.”
Herman Melville
He opens wide the mirrored door to pass
across but it too is a mirror
on the other side.
Why would any earth
have summer except to honor
long-lived sun?
He opens wide a vacant mind to what is
never there but it too
rings hollow like an echo in the air.
Why would any world
have winter save to do
penance to the cold?
He opens wide his eyes to awaken from
the dream but all is forsaken
in seeing what it seems.
Why would any cosmos
have autumn but for trees
to die in leaves of gold?
He pricks his ears to hear the bursting
forth of flowers.
And why spring of all unveilings
if not to rise up from
the ice?
E. A. Costa 18 January, 2016
Granada, Nicaragua.
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