Another week has come and gone, and I have to pick another poem to post! Today I have decided on another poem I studied at school, “Mirror” by Sylvia Plath.
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful —
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with Sylvia Plath’s Poetry (and Emily Dickenson’s!) as some poems can be very dark, while others can be quite enlightening like this one. I like this poem as it shows how we change yet the mirror dosent and how we turn to tricks of light to try and make ourselves look younger. Though these days its no longer trickes of light, if surgery or injections! Any way enjoy the poem and I hope you age gracefully!