Mirrors

By: Angelique Wienrich

This poem was written during the second day of our Free Fall workshop in response to what was happening that day and a Dream Card, picturing a pregnant woman looking into a mirror.

Pregnant - I'll never be born

all I see is potential

in the mirror of myself

Green is the colour of spring, of gestation

but to be ripe and fall, like a fruit

is to be eaten.

I am afraid of death.

I thought I wasn't -

but I must be, trapped as I am

in the mirror of my unborn Self.

The mirror broke, shattered,

elephants take 22months -

in March we nearly destroyed each other.

Labour is all the more painful

when both mother and child resist

Yet we cannot arrest the unfolding of Life.

The rose is already on canvas

and the man stands naked, waiting.