Today is my birthday,
The commencement of my New Year;
April twenty seventh nineteen forty three,
The only true Year Zero;
"In the beginning God" - simply a metaphor?
I burn some incense.
Grey smoke, slowly rising, fills this small room
Until every corner is hazy,
Concealed in the fug of a dream.
Dreams fade quickly, just like a dampened fire.
I whisper my fears to the face that haunts the mirror
But expect no urgent reply.
The mirror can only show Now, never tomorrow,
The past is also omitted from its remit.
This mirror is just too honest. I name it an enemy.
Today is my birthday,
The day in which I recall what I cannot recall,
My first encounter with heat and cold and light.
"In the beginning God", but then I did not know that.
The future was also a blank, the past already redundant.
I glance at the clock. Midnight. Time shows no mercy,
My birthday already over. I turn off the kitchen light.
It is now too dark to wish "good night" to the mirror.
God parting the dark from light claimed all was good.
Perhaps I don`t disagree.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
April 27th. - 28th. 2022.
This poem came to me at 11 pm. and I finished the first version at 3 am. My computer is in the kitchen and I wrote straight onto my Blog page. I rarely do this because poems take time and can go through several revisions and transformations. It is like druiving a fast car in the dark.
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