Those mirrors are here above today

In the morning my heart has been weeping;
tears float from my dreaming eyes
gathering above me in pools.

And when I awaken
fluid mirrors dapple the ceiling
shining puddles
all of abandonment and pain,
fear and loss. The wounds

are just these quiet mirrors.

I open the doors, the windows
so the birds of heaven come
and play in the waters of my tears
bathing, drinking,
getting the water all over.

Sometimes I can almost see her eyes.

In the morning, I find
that my dreaming heart has been weeping
tears that rise to become mirrors
in which all of this is happening
at once, this pain, the waters,
these birds, her eyes;

awakening.