The Looking Glass

We have just moved an antique mirror into our bedroom; it is a thing of beauty - carved, dark wood with a tilting oval looking glass. Several nights ago I dreamed that a face was looking from it - staring out of the mirror. It was not my own face.

Mirrors hold a fascination for us Gothic Tradition fans. To gaze at the Self in a looking glass is, in a sense, to capture a moment of time passing; just as, when we utter words, we have moved those words from the present moment of 'about to say' into the historic moment of 'said', so it is with our reflection. We capture our Self, held in the moment - the seeing. And yet in that same moment we have already turned, moved into the 'seen'.

How much history stares from a mirror?
How many faces have been held,
Transfixed in the gaze
as we turn from
young child
to the fast
ageing
Self?