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* * *

In the white mist where rocks pierce skies
I searched for myself amid frozen glaze.
But I found only mounds of ice,
Rigid, heavy cold, like the heaven's gaze.
I saw starlight return to a star,
Bounced by the chilly diamond glare.
I saw clouds, black and dense like tar,
But I did not find myself anywhere.
From the skies then I did alight -
Dark waters took me and barely stirred.
There, amazed, I observed the flight
Of winged fish, spellbound ocean birds.
I heard the laughter of blue nayades,
Dulled by the ocean's enormous mass.
I saw remnants of great armadas,
But I still did not find myself, alas.
To the depth, to the heart, into the core
I descended then, and what met my sight
Was just the wealth of colorful ore,
Threadlike gleam of gold and molybdenite.
I saw granite, clay and sandstone,
But I myself was nowhere I went,
As if my species were unknown,
Not observed in any environment.
And leaving the dreamworld to weave itself:
Its fine, ornate, nonexistent lace,
I reached blindly toward the shelf,
And removed a heavy tome from its place.
Unaware of the book's concerns,
Its theme or plot or the points it raised,
I combined first letters, to learn
That in such joining they formed a phrase.
The phrase revealed a command, and thus
To you in my song it will now pass:
"Find yourself in a looking glass,
In a looking glass, in a looking glass..."