Sleeping…Waiting
The mirror
Deep within the Dragon Mountain
The Mirror Of What Might Yet Be
Solitary…exiled
In the dark…he glows
Luminous…yet…illuminating nothing
Glistening Cyclops eye in frigid stone
Plain…no frame
Of silver, gold or bronze
Nor precious gems
To soften his rough rim
As those of his brothers and sisters.
A mistake…his conception
But what the dwarves create…they cannot eliminate
So, banishment…to a kingdom all his own
Dark…dank…hewn from living stone
He sleeps…the sleep of the abyss…empty…bottomless…infinite
He does not dream…dreams are stories
Woven from experience
And, what can he know of that?
So, he…sleeps…and waits
Footsteps …slow…laborious…determined
The stone steps…steep…widely spaced…
Challenging…her stunted legs.
Still…she climbs
Mouth set…goal intent
Torch flame leaps high…as though impatient to be done
Mocking her with its agility
Her shadow-companion shimmies upon the wall.
She shivers...wraps her cloak tightly around
Her small frame
Cold...the upper levels
Where no one ever ventures
Staying to the lower regions
Warmed by furnaces…fires…ever burning in
The dwarves’ foundries
Legs struggle to…push…propel
Forward...upward…
Only to give out…at last
Body...sagging against the stone
Lungs laboring…gulping air
That imparts to senses...tales of age...neglect…desolation
Pulse…racing…galloping…pounding…
Heart…broken…
Not by the climb
But by ignorance…by love…unrequited.
Hearts break…no matter what their size
And hers had fractured…splintered…shattered
At the announcement of her love's...betrothal.
Shrinking from the joyous laughter
Escaping from the merry noise
Staggering to her lonely room
Crying on her barren bed
Those who say one can’t die of a broken heart
Have never suffered one.
The body survives, yes...but, tiny pieces of the spirit
Shrivel...shrink...cease to be.
True, the object of her desire
Was blameless
Had never known…had never guessed
What longings he stirred within
Her breast
It had been her secret…kept close…
The mortar on which
To build air castles in the dark
With the hope that one day he would...smile
Her way.
But that dream had died...drowning
Washed away
By the love that bathed the couple’s faces
What future lay before her, now?
Heartache would be her bridegroom
Loneliness…solitude…desolation
Her children
Unless…
Nicking...pricking...through her pain
A memory crept…of
Tales woven before the fire…spun by old ones…
Of a mirror...hidden…
Secreted away…long ago
Through which a possible future could be glimpsed
For one who stood before it.
Thus, her quest began
Her resolution made
No matter to what...end.
No time to rest…
Shaking her head...freeing her thoughts
She forced her body to
Stand...turn...push...climb
Upward…ever upward
The torch sprite...sputtering its disdain.
Three days...three nights...
The stairs...persevered in their ascent
The path behind...vanishing into the depths.
The path ahead...leading into oblivion
Both devoured...by the rapacious dragon-dark
She, battling with demons of hunger...fatigue...cold...and
Terror...when the torch burned out…
Fingers panic...scramble...for the flint
And in their haste...lose their grip
It falls...
The sound of its descent...the death knell of her dreams.
Blind...hugging the wall...she has no choice
But to continue
Her aching, bleeding foot lifts...steps...stumbles
And...she falls...plummeting into...what?
Her body almost relishes the end...to its torment
But...
Her knees...her outstretched arms...land
On flat...solid ground
Her mind rides on shockwaves of disbelief
She’s reached the end!
Drawn into a ball...her body shakes
Exhausted sobs echo...
Around the walls...signaling her relief
Then...
Her weeping...slows...hiccups to a stop
Suddenly aware
Of a new sound...a hum
Pulsing soft...low...and light
And slowly...hesitantly...she pushes upright
To see...
An eye...
Unblinking...sightless...opalescent...iridescent
Suspended in the ebon air
The mirror
The Mirror of What Yet Might Be
Shakily...painfully she rises to her feet
With a child’s first wobbly steps
Approaches the magic pane
Stands before it...gazes into it...and sees
Nothing…
But herself.
The pain…is too much
Blindly...unconsciously...sleepwalking
She turns...sways…steps…
But with the glue of hope dissolved...
Her body collapses
Dead before she hits the floor
Inside...the mirror
A reflection gazes down in horror upon its...her...self
Lying still in the ancient dust
And screams in terror...hands pushing...beating
Against the glass
Frantically...vainly...searching for escape
From the depths of the mirror
A stirring...stretching...sighing...as though something is...
Awakening
The reflection...freezes... paralyzed
Then...spins...back pressed against the lens
Sinking to her knees...cowering
Eyes covered...shielded
Crying out for salvation
Footsteps...hesitant...uncertain...shy
Approach...halt
Before her.
Through trembling fingers...she peeks
And sees...no troll...monster...or beast...
But...a man
Clad in misty gray...slender...no taller than she
Charming of countenance...pale of skin and hair
Eyes akin to opals...glowing softly...beautifully.
He smiles...kindly…gently...
Gracefully he bows...and courteously offers her
His hand
Timidly...she places her small hand in his.
He speaks…in a voice…untried
"I've been waiting for you."
Enchanted...her fear...evaporated...
Knowing...feeling...understanding
Suddenly...without doubt…
This is what was meant to be
The waiting...for both...
Is over.
If you enjoyed this poem, please let Mary-Cade know.
