Quiet Reflection - Poetry

A mirror,
That divides it into half,
And,
Further more,
Maybe.

It was a prophecy,
One that was,
But interpreted wrong.

It was meant to be,
Judged wrong,
Turned out even worse.

Of all the points of souls,
Floating by,
In an infinite space,
Redeeming breath,
Why bounce back,
Off this wall?

If time was a machine,
To be clocked and turned back,
To meet points that converge,
Taking perspective into view,
What could be done with it?

Surely, nothing worse,
Surely that.

A whisper in the wind,
Burnt the tree down,
From afar,
The flames danced.

Photo by Fabio Jock on Unsplash