Reflection
Autobiographical poem.
Reflection belongs to the following groups:
! Creative Writing & Poetry !, Light In The Darkness and Live, Love, Dream:I am a mirror image
Of something time forgot,
Long ago discarded,
Not quite sure just what.
I am a mirror image
Stolen from The Past.
Ancient dream of Something
Never meant to last.
I am a mere reflection
Of Echoes in the Wind.
Light from a long-dead star,
Which refused to dim.
I’m nothing but The Shadow;
The Substance now is gone.
All that’s left of Summer’s Night…
I am Autumn Dawn!
lacewren
Claiming a naming? Naming is a sacred act, but paradoxically, names themselves have little meaning, as if the total of a life could be summed into a word, or short phrase. It took an entire poem, in a language of condensed meaning, to introduce Autumn Dawn (beautiful itself), but that’s just a business card handed to a stranger (metaphorical client), before any contractual negotiations, or real work proceeds. I say client, since all our interpersonal transactions (even with self) seem to be based on (or insisted) some fulfillment of supposed need. We are a strange species, combined individuation/dependency, like children our whole careers, headstrong yet soulweak, learning while playing, hopefully. But this old fool may be a bit jaded. Shadow of substance (is entropy the final audience/critic), substance of shadow (artists use “negative space”), I am pleased to meet you, Ms Autumn Dawn.
Songmistress
Thank you. Yes… I was born on a Summer’s evening (just had my 35th birthday, actually), my mother named me Autumn Dawn. True story. At the time the name was quite unique, and I’ve always felt that it suited my temperament (although I’m not a morning person by any stretch…), but the eratic nature of the most colourful of seasons does describe me quite well. My mother chose wisely in naming all her daughters. I have a sister named Stormi… and, she is.