Medusa's Mirror

There was a glass that I found today,
When far from the herd I did stray,
In search of a missing lamb.
And there I found that I am

Uglier than I could ever guess,
Yet lady of heaven in sky's dress.
There I found lying in the grass
What could only be Medusa's glass.

It was carved over with snakes of stone,
And it lay as though forever alone
All the living things of the world must leave
It. I knew that I would grieve

If I picked it up, and looked inside.
But I have never been one to hide
From the truth, no matter how sharp.
It takes courage to hear the storm harp

And know that one has lost a sheep,
And yet to turn and go back to sleep,
To search out the sheep in the morning.
I thought I, if anyone, had warning

About what ugliness lies in the soul
Of the world, or humans, the whole
Of the foulness that can be reflected.
I never guessed, never even expected

To see my face gazing back at me,
Uglier than her snakes could ever be,
And more beautiful than the sky
When a silver sunset goes brushing by.

I held the mirror cradled in my hands,
And stared at the polished glass from lands
Of sun-warmed Greece bright and green.
And I wondered then if she had seen

That ugliness and beauty, Medusa herself?
Whether born ugly or turned from fair elf
To the snake-goddess she was in her youth,
Did she gaze on others and see human truth?

Was that what made them freeze into stone?
The truth of their souls, and that alone?
Perhaps that was why Medusa feared her reflection,
And froze her victims into rocky perfection.

Or so I thought; of that image I cannot tire,
As I gaze at the glass that now reflects my fire.
Snakes twining around it to represent ugliness,
While the mirror itself is lovelier than we guess.