~ by Avellina Balestri

A mirror made by demons, finely wrought

To bring them sport through Hell’s eternal night

And watch the sons of Adam, apple-bought

And daughters of Dame Eve, the serpent’s bride

Lose sight of paradise through poisoned eyes

And hearts like rotted fruit upon the tree

Sing, sing, the shattered song of ancient days

As false reflections shatter in the sky

Falling like the rains that flooded earth

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down to earth…

As fine as powdered sugar, sickly sweet

It scattered like a plague upon the streets

And found in searching eyes a secret home

The wisdom-seekers left the child’s path

And found instead a knowledge, quick to grasp

Yet worth as little as the broken glass

That cuts a razor’s path through heart-shaped fruit

And death it spelled, with no more hope in sight

They did not see the roses, beauty born

With warmth imbued, and vibrant color sprung

For every flower holds a sleeping child

A pixie, or the infant Christ, a vision mild

With light to burn away the icy lens

But no, no, the stricken saw not the cure

And so the searching ice queen, tall and fair,

In carriage, costly-gilt, rode through the square

To find a searcher-slave whose eyes were turned

To jagged shapes and puzzles left unsolved

And so a stricken lad with glassy eyes

Was spirited away to serve the fates

Of reason, with the measurements just so,

A fairyland enchantment robbed of soul

But lo! The white stag sweeps the snowy plains

A lass, for love, braves ice’s regal might

The Lord’s Prayer on her lips, the licking light

Of Bethlehem’s lost star rides on the wind

The antlers of the stag become a cross

That banishes the banshees of the night

The Queen of Ice sat proud upon her throne

Her one-time child-pawn toyed at her feet

Yet joyless was his just-so “reasoned” play

His bloodless face no memory displayed

A blankness eating through his mind, like worms

Through apples of the garden, frozen hard

Like rock, bloodied ‘neath the olive trees

Or rolled back for the earth’s rebirth

And so she came, his childhood friend

A little girl, no more, but grown in grace

And stature, but a child’s purity

Still blazed bright as any candle lit

For Lucia’s coming, thawing chill

And bringing sight, as saint of blindest fools

Who feel her golden braids and know

An Infant’s swaddling cloth shall sheath the snow

Forth she comes, tears coursing down her cheeks

Tears that soften eyes, enliven hearts

And wash the sinful sugar from the soul

As shattered glass is bled from blinded eyes

The piece of every puzzle played by Man

The Word of every riddle asked by Man

Is flushed from mirror vengeance, long endured

It falls in place, and ends the searcher’s quest:

ETERNITY